


Pawn/Knight/Queen

by orangelightsaber



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dark Rey, F/M, Hate Sex, M/M, Multi, Power Struggle, Reylo - Freeform, Reylux - Freeform, Reyux, Threesome - F/M/M, dubcon, everyone is angry and mistrustful, political thrills, some smut, some violence eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6133324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangelightsaber/pseuds/orangelightsaber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Force binds you, and what is bound is not so easily unbound."</p><p> </p><p>Reylux.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aaand I'm in the Reylux trash heap now. Just couldn't help myself, Hux makes such an interesting addition to the dynamic.
> 
> I will definitely be making some reylux art soon, check out my [Tumblr](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com) if that interests you.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

Rey shivered at she sat on the cold ground. Reaching to her belt, she unclipped her lightsaber and placed in on the ground in front of her. An offering. Waiting.

 

 _This is a terrible idea_.

 

She could sense that he wasn’t far off now. His presence blazed in her mind, impossible to ignore. It had been this way since their last meeting, ever since he had pushed into her mind and she had pushed back. Even when they were apart she could feel him, sometimes even tell what he was feeling. _Excitement now. Anticipation._

That was what had gotten her into this situation.

 

His footsteps crunched the leaves as he moved toward her, the noise breaking her from her reverie. He stopped several paces off from where she was sitting.

 

Rey nodded to him, “Kylo Ren.”

 

“Scavenger,” his voice was a mechanical clip through his mask. “You called me here. Why?”

 

 _Here goes nothing,_ thought Rey. She moved into a kneeling position, low to the ground, one knee thrust forward so she could bow over it. Head down, neck exposed. _Vulnerable._

“You told me once I needed a teacher.”

 

“I recall.”

 

“It seems you were right.”

 

A crackled, rough noise emitted from his mask. It took Rey several moments to realize he was laughing. She kept her head down, afraid to anger him.

 

He stepped forward, grabbing her roughly under the chin and bringing her eyes up to meet his own. She could see her own face, scared, reflected in the visor of his mask.

 

His intrusion into her head was swift. He could tell which memories she was pushing back, away from him, and he moved toward them immediately. She resisted the urge to fight, to throw him out of her head, to run.

 

Luke’s face swam into view, his eyes sorrowful.

 

“I cannot teach you,” he said, exactly the way he had on the day it had happened. On the day she had extended the lightsaber to him and he had refused to take it.

 

“Please,” she had begged. Tears in her eyes. “Please, teach me how to keep him out.”

 

“Your connection to him is already too deep. The Force binds you, and what is bound is not so easily unbound.”

 

Rey tried to pull her chin from Kylo’s hands. He merely gripped her tighter, keeping her eyes locked on his mask.

 

Kylo sifted through her other memories with an impartial clarity. Leia’s disappointment when Rey had returned without her brother. Finn’s face when he had learned the reason _why_. They had tried to make it seem like everything was fine but Rey had known it wasn’t. She had been their hope, and she had failed.

 

Rey burned with embarrassment, face hot, as her memories lay exposed in front of him. _He didn’t need to do this_. The connection was just as strong for him, he had felt this all when it happened, _as it happened._

 

Ren’s presence ceded from her mind, leaving her gasping. Tears streaked her face, cold against the red heat of her cheeks.

 

He laughed again, that harsh, grating noise a distraction from her thoughts.

 

“It seems my uncle has not learned from his mistakes.”

 

Rey could feel his pleasure at the situation radiating through the bond they shared. He was enjoying her anguish, particularly the fact that it was _his presence_ in her head that had prevented Luke from training her. That _he_ was the cause of it all.

 

“Come,” he said, and whirled in a flurry of black robes to stride back towards his ship.

 

Wordlessly, Rey followed.

 

* * *

 

 

Ren stalked through the hallways with purpose. Rey trailed steps behind him, unsure and wary. Her meager possessions clenched tightly in her arms. She could hear the murmurs as they passed. One whisper carried over the others already. _Kylo Ren’s whore._

 

Her face burned. _Who were they to judge her anyway?_ She knew _he_ had heard it, and yet he did nothing.

 

 _They are beneath our notice._ Came his voice in her head. Goosebumps prickled her skin. It was only the second time she had deliberately left the connection between them open, instead of forever trying and failing to pinch it shut, tightly, tightly.

 

She held her head higher. Carved her face into an expression of disdain. With each step she imagined steel in her spine, holding her upwards, shaping her, bracing her against whatever would come. _It will only get worse._

 

They halted in front of a steel door, unremarkable in comparison to any of the others lining the hallway. Kylo removed his glove and pressed a large hand to the access pad, the door slid open with a hiss and they entered.

 

It was a set of rooms, furnished luxuriously. The first was a sitting room, with a desk and seating area. An open door on one side led to a bedroom.

 

“My room,” said Ren, gesturing. “You’re through there.” He swept an arm toward the door on the opposite wall. “You are to stay in your room until further notice.”

 

He turned away as though that dismissed her.

 

“That’s it?” she asked, confused.

 

He whirled back around, voice harsh, “What more would you like?”

 

“Explanations, my lightsaber back,” she glanced at the door behind her, “Maybe a room that’s not connected to yours.”

 

His head tilted, “Nervous over physical proximity? We share a mental bond. There is no greater intimacy.” He stepped forward and she stepped back, her shoulders cold against the metal of the wall. “Master and apprentice remain near.” His words had the finality of ritual about them. He reached out with a gloved hand to touch her face but stopped.

 

Rey’s breath came heavy at his nearness. He braced his hands against the wall, looming over her. His face was near hers now, the shining black of the mask mirroring her own reactions back to her. She could see her own scared reflection. Disgust rose in her throat at the sight of her own helplessness, _her own weakness._ Then fear, rising up in her throat, choking her.

 

“Good,” he said as he felt her emotions flood through their bond.

 

He reached up to unclasp his helmet, the pneumatic hiss of it loud in the quiet room. He dropped it carelessly, a loud _crack_ resounding as it hit the floor at their feet.

 

“Open your mind,” he whispered, leaning down, breath hot in her ear. “Let me feel your fear.”

 

She didn’t resist, laying her mind bare in front of him. He sighed, taking in the flood of her emotions, fear at the forefront, sharp and buzzing, it filled him with strength as he drank it in, and then deeper, loss, anger, despair. They nourished him.

 

He kissed her. Lips hot against her own. The physical connection opening the mental one wider. She felt a flood of lust through their open bond and couldn’t tell where it had originated. He moved to her neck, kissing and biting alternatively, each hiss of her pain causing him to jerk forward as he pulled it into himself, strengthening.

 

She could feel what he was doing somehow, taking her strength and making it his own. She wondered if she could do the same and pulled at his emotions, taking them into herself. It was like a rush of sweet hot desire, pooling low in her belly, fueling her. He felt her sapping his strength and bit sharply on her neck, breaking her concentration.

 

He pulled back and grinned wolfishly at her. “You learn quickly,” he said. “Perhaps you _will_ make a worthy apprentice.”

 

 _Kylo’s whore._ The words burned bright in her mind. Reverie broken, she pushed him away from her.

 

“Don’t do that. I’m not your whore. You can’t just take what you please from me. We made a deal.”

 

Kylo smiled coldly, “Indeed we did, and deals necessitate exchanges. I take what I need from you, and you will be allowed to do the same.”

 

She suddenly realized the type of mess she had gotten herself into, the weight of it heavy on her chest. She was going to need to learn quickly to survive this place.

 

Her neck throbbed where he had bitten her and she swiped a hand over the marks, trying to soothe them. _Kriff, those are going to bruise._ She needed to find something with a high neck on it or she would be hearing far more whispers.

 

“Next time, ask before you maul me,” she sneered. And with that, she turned and entered her room, hoping to whatever powers were watching that it locked from the inside.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Though she was free to go from her own room to the shared sitting room the access pad denied her egress to the rest of the ship. Each time she pressed her hand against the pad it beeped a loud warning. Frustrated she paced the sitting room, eyes catching _his_ door. She could sense that he was within his rooms. Perhaps she could convince him to let her out. She didn’t like being so confined.

 

She knocked hesitantly at the door.

 

“Enter.” Came his voice, mechanical.

 

She pressed the access pad and stepped forward into his room. A hot flush rose to her cheeks as she took in the scene in front of her.

 

Kylo Ren, fully naked except for his helm, was sprawled back leisurely in a chair, arms spread to either side of him. Between his legs kneeled another naked man, red haired and alabaster skinned. His head bobbed up and down, alternating fast and slow motions as deft and skillful hands cupped and caressed. _The General._

 

Though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew Kylo was watching her, studying her reaction to the beautifully obscene tableau in front of her. With his mask trained on her he fisted his hand in the other man’s hair, pressing him down, deeper, harder. A heat of arousal flooded her.

 

As soon as her brain managed to make sense of what she was seeing she turned away, facing the door in shame. The image was burned into her mind. The mental connection between her and Kylo dangled open, tantalizing her. _What would it be like?_ She felt almost dizzy at the thought. _He’s leaving it open on purpose, Rey, don’t._ She was glad neither man could see her face.

 

“Did you have a question, apprentice?” His strained breathing was noticeable even through the mask. She could hear the slick noise of skin hitting skin, the muffled moans of the kneeling man. Her ears burned hot.

 

Heat flooded her core. _Think about something else,_ she told herself. _Don’t think about going over there— don’t think about it. This is clearly a power play. He is testing you. Show him you can handle it. You are strong, Rey._

 

She turned around, face steely as she gazed into his mask. “You locked me in my rooms.”

 

“That’s not a question,” he responded, groaning lightly as the general moved faster now.

 

“You assured me I wouldn’t be a prisoner here--” she began.

 

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have to earn my trust.” The bond between them opened wider, whether on purpose or because Kylo was distracted Rey didn’t know. The open path practically begged her to glimpse into his mind. _Trap._ Heat radiated from the two men in front of her. It was intoxicating. She watched a bead of sweat roll down General Hux’s back and felt her breath catch in her throat.

 

Rey couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. She half closed her eyes, falling into Kylo’s mind with ease, without even trying. Pleasure washed through her. Hot, wet sensation. A picture formed in Ren’s mind of the three of them. She could see herself through his eyes, lips wrapped around the General’s cock, bobbing up and down as Kylo thrust into her from behind, hands wrapped around her waist.

 

She stumbled backwards out of his mind. Though she couldn’t see his mouth she knew it was curled into a smirk.

 

She tried to keep her voice from shaking. “And how does one earn your trust?”

 

“Staying out of my head would be an excellent start.” The smirk in his voice was audible now.

She tore her eyes away from the sight in front of her as she bowed slightly. “Yes, master.” She turned and fled the room, cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal.

 

* * *

 

 

Ren came almost immediately as the girl left the room.

 

“You want her.” Hux wiped his mouth daintily on his hand and smirked at the other man as he stood, “No, wait,” he reconsidered, “You want her to want you. Intriguing.”

 

“Lust is power,” Ren shrugged, tipping his head back to study the ceiling.

 

Hux watched as the pale column of Kylo’s throat was exposed beneath his mask. A surprisingly delicate sight. Otherwise, the knight was pure power, and Hux loved power. Their trysts, the feeling of control he had when he could make the dark haired man quiver beneath his touch— _Lust is power indeed._

“Do you deny you want her as well?” continued the knight, “I don’t even have to look into your mind to see it.” He pressed the same image he had sent Rey into Hux’s mind. The general shuddered at the invasion of his senses, he brushed a hand against his face as if to brush away the image.

 

“I don’t trust her,” said Hux, unreadable as always, as he collected his clothing from the corners of the room where it had been thrown.

 

“I don’t remember asking your opinion.” The knight made no motion toward putting on clothes, comfortable in his nakedness. “She is powerful.”

 

“She is raw,” replied Hux, “Uncut diamonds hide flaws.”

 

“Her flaws are not your concern,” said Kylo. He toyed with the hilt of his lightsaber, running careful fingers up and down its length. Even naked the blade was never far from his grasp. “Even cracked crystals have value.” He paused, voice cool as he continued, “Jealousy does not become you Hux.”

 

Hux narrowed his eyes as he left the room. “Remember what I said Ren.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Apprentice,” said Ren, nodding, as he entered Rey’s room. He hadn’t knocked.

 

She was meditating, or trying to do so anyway. The images from earlier were seared into her brain. It was taking everything she had not to relieve the ache between her legs then and there. _He’d know,_ she told herself. And she was sure he would.

 

His presence did nothing to relieve that ache. He had taken off his helmet and put on a shirt and pants, but he positively reeked of sex. She bit her lip without meaning to.

 

“Master,” She nodded in return. His eyes glittered in response to the word and she could tell he enjoyed her use of it. His eyes flicked down to her neck and she knew he was admiring the bruises he had left there earlier.

 

“The General requests your company for dinner, tomorrow,” said Ren, stalking around the meager room. He picked up her possessions one by one and placed them back carelessly, with little interest.

 

“He doesn’t like me,” she said. She had sensed it during her intrusion. A wariness, cold and disdainful.

 

Ren nodded. “And yet we must ally with him.”

 

“Do you trust him?”

 

“That’s not your concern.”

 

“You certainly let him very close to you,” she challenged, doing her best to show him she hadn’t been cowed by his previous display.

 

He arched a brow at her, “Also not your concern.” He picked up the rebel pilot’s helmet she had brought with her, one of the few belongings she had salvaged from her home on Jakku. “What is this?” His lips curled in disgust.

 

“A trophy,” she lied, testing to see if she could.

 

“Liar,” he replied, his tone cold.

 

“Then its none of your concern,” she amended, turning his own words back at him.

 

“You are my apprentice. Everything you do is my concern.” He rapped the helmet with his knuckles. “Don’t let the General see this.”

 

She made a face, “I can’t imagine he’ll be in my room.”

 

Ren shrugged, oddly casual. “I need him to trust you. Do you think you can manage that? You’re of more use to me as an apprentice if you can make your way into his confidences.”

 

“And that will gain _your_ trust? Enough to let me out of this room?” Her eyes narrowed, “I didn’t come here to learn about being confined, _Master._ ”

 

His eyes flashed in anger. “It might.” He stepped close to her, the heat and strength of his body overwhelming. “Show me your worth, Rey,” he said, reaching up to touch her cheek. “And then we can make—arrangements.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rey sat across from the General in an otherwise empty room. Her plate of food sat untouched in front of her. He cut his meat and ate it with a daintiness that suited him. She wondered why he had invited her here. What power play was going on between the two men who claimed her time.

 

“Does the food displease you?” he asked.

 

“It looks beautiful,” she replied, remembering her instructions— _make an ally of him, Rey._

 

“And yet, you do not eat,” his voice was cold.

 

“You don’t like me,” she said by way of explanation, thinking perhaps that bluntness would be a better tactic. “Ren told me. He also said not to trust you. I assume that means not eating anything you’ve put in front of me.”

 

His face remained impassive at her news. Intrigued, she brushed against his mind to gauge his reaction. Though he didn’t block her, he did flinch at the intrusion, calm façade slipping for a brief second as he gripped his silverware tightly. She pulled back quickly, surprised that he could feel her touch.

 

“Your Master is a jealous man,” he said, continuing on as though nothing had happened. “Perhaps you should not be so quick to trust what he tells you. He lives to sow the seeds of discord.”

 

She arched her eyebrows at that but deigned to take a bite of food. It was exquisite, better than any she had had as of yet, but somehow that only served to make her more nervous.

 

The red-haired man lifted his glass to her, studying her through the amber liquid. “There are few pleasures finer than a good meal.”

 

Rey nodded to appease him, though truly, she could think of many. Food had been a scarcity in the desert, something to demolish quickly and urgently, not something to savor.

 

“And how do you like working with Ren?” He asked quietly.

 

She wasn’t sure what he was digging for, what information he sought from her. Was it merely his own jealousy that had prompted him to invite her here tonight, or was there something else, something deeper?

 

“There hasn’t been any work so far,” she answered honestly. “I’ve been mostly confined to my rooms. Something about earning trust?” She took a sip of her own drink, the amber liquid searing her throat unexpectedly. She coughed in surprise.

 

“Not much of a drinker?” asked Hux, voice steeped in disdain.

 

“I confess I haven’t had much opportunity.”

 

“I would tread carefully then, were I you.” He spoke softly, a warning.

 

She raised her eyebrows, defiant. “Is that a threat, General?”

 

“Mere suggestion. I imagine you’ve already heard the rumors flying on the ship. Not much privacy around these parts.” His smile was predatory. “ _Kylo’s pet_ , they’re calling you.”

 

“That’s one of the nicer names, actually.” Meeting his eyes, she took a larger sip of her drink, expecting the burn and embracing it this time. It brought a flush to her cheeks and she could already feel her head beginning to swim. _Dangerous_.

 

The General stood, moving smoothly over to the sideboard to retrieve a thin black box. “Come,” he commanded, not looking to see if she would obey, “A pet should have a collar, don’t you think?” He turned as she stood, opening the box to show her the magnificent necklace within.

 

She steeled her face, “I couldn’t possibly accept General.”

 

His smile was strained. “It is not a request.” He unclasped the necklace and held it open, indicating with his head that she should step forward. She slid her high-necked jacket down over her shoulders and watched as his eyes tracked to the marks on her neck, bruises and bites, fresh like red and purple paint newly dripped on the canvas of her skin. He sucked in a breath, but whether it was anger or something _other,_ Rey couldn’t tell.

 

“Turn,” he said, and though she was loath to expose her back to him, she obeyed. His fingers were brisk as they brushed aside the curls at the base of her neck, lingering for perhaps a moment too long on each bruise.

 

The necklace was cold and heavy against her skin. For Rey, who had never worn jewelry, it was stifling, the weight of it like hands at her throat. _A reminder_. Goosebumps prickled at her skin. His breath was hot on her neck as he fastened the clasp, bending over her.

 

Cool sensation brushed at her skin, startling her. It felt as though he had touched his lips to her neck, against the marks lingering there, but it couldn’t be.

 

He drew back, allowing her to turn and face him again. He ran an impersonal hand over the necklace, smoothing it. “Of course, it would be nicer if you were wearing something appropriate for dinner.”

 

She glanced down at her attire, black shirt and pants, both made of the same silky material, boots and then the high-necked jacket, marked with the First Order insignia. Training gear, but still, they were clean and presentable. It wasn’t as though she had a lot of options, really, it was this or the clothes she had been wearing when she was brought onboard. Her face began to tighten into a frown but she fought to keep it neutral.

 

“I had little warning between receiving your invitation and attending it,” she explained.

 

“My _invitation?_ ” he asked, laughing incredulously. “Ren arranged this little meeting. It was no doing of mine.”

 

“ _What?_ Why would he do that? _”_

 

Hux laughed then, high and cold and imperious. “Oh little pet, you have much to learn about the world.”

 

Her hands itched at that, and the urge to hurt him rose up in her throat. _You could do it, it would be so easy_. She clenched her fists. Where had that thought come from?

 

He noticed the tension in her hands but ignored it, “Your _Master_ ,” he spat the word, “loves to manipulate people. Who knows what he sought to gain from his lie.”

 

She didn’t believe for a moment that he didn’t know what Kylo was trying to achieve. But there were deeper mysteries at work here than she understood, and the power dynamic between these two men was at the heart of it.

 

Without meaning to, she brushed her consciousness against his again. Curious, always curious. A face flashed into her mind, a young boy, red haired. Hux. His face all over tears. A voice floated over him. “It was a close thing, but the count just wasn’t high enough.”

 

His hand gripped her face, hard like steel, nails digging into her skin, palm over her mouth. She pulled out of his mind in surprise.

 

“Stay out of my head, girl,” he growled at her. “Is that why Ren sent you? To wheedle your way in here?” He tapped a finger along a temple. “What is it that he wants from me?” He shook her roughly, setting her teeth ajar.

 

“I—I don’t know. He told me to make you an ally. That’s all. He hasn’t said anything else.”

 

He growled in frustration, hands clenching tighter into her shoulders. He towered over her, blue eyes icy. Then he composed himself, animalistic snarl replaced once again by gentility.

 

“And an excellent job you’ve done with that.” One hand moved to her cheek, brushing away a loose curl of hair.

 

She flushed red at his chastisement.

 

“Let me propose an arrangement,” said Hux, stepping back from her. Rey felt like she could breathe suddenly, without his presence stifling her. “You and I can pretend to be _allies_ , provided you report back to me on what it is that Ren is truly after here.” He inclined his head in question, ever elegant. “Agreed?”

 

She shook her head, “He’ll know. He’s in my head.”

 

“Then you’ll have to learn to hide things from him rather quickly,” he advised, taking her hand in his own and steering her back to her seat.

 

He moved over to the sidebar, gripping the crystal decanter and refilling his glass. He swirled the liquid about the bottom of the glass before taking a sip.

 

He strode back to where she was sitting, eyes locked on her own. Burning. Without warning he reached out and tilted back her chin, kissing her, lips capturing her own. She could taste the alcohol on his breath, hot and sweet.

 

“Don’t let him see that,” said Hux, when he pulled back finally. His mouth curled into a smirk. “If you can manage it, perhaps we truly can be _allies._ But you have no use to me as a pet of Ren’s.”

 

She opened her mouth to respond, cheeks flushed, but he stilled her with the raising of a hand.

 

“Don’t answer now. Come back to me when you have something to offer.”

 

She nodded and stood, head swirling from the events and the alcohol. She moved to leave, not caring that most of her meal lay untouched. She needed to get out of here, she needed time to collect herself. She pressed her hand on the access pad and the door slid open.

 

“It was—pleasant, having company for dinner,” came Hux’s voice over her shoulder, taunting her? “Perhaps again sometime.”

 

Once outside in the corridor she slumped against the wall, breathing heavily and doing her best to take stock of the situation. Both men sought to make her their pawn, each hoping to turn her against the other. _Interesting_.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the [art piece](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com/post/140632708202/the-main-three-from-pawnknightqueen) I made to accompany this chapter.

* * *

 

 

As soon as the door slid shut behind her Rey reached up to pull off the necklace that sat heavy on her throat. She shoved it into the pocket of her jacket, quickly, as though it might bite her. Out of sight out of mind.

 

Sha sat for a while in the hallway, ruminating on the night’s events. No one came by. She wondered if she was supposed to return herself to her room. Probably. But if no one was going to force her she certainly wouldn’t be resigning herself to confinement again any time soon. Taking advantage of her temporary freedom, she decided to explore.

 

Her footsteps echoed down the empty corridor as she made her way around, taking stock of the ship. She stopped at a viewport and took a moment to admire the stars as they soared by. Pinpricks of light, untouched and uncaring about the passage of the ship. Unfazed by the movement of the universe around them. She pressed a palm against the duraplastic, it was freezing cold.

 

Reverie broken, she continued back down the corridor. She was just about to turn the corner when a large chrome clad arm reached out from an adjacent corridor and stopped her.

 

“Hey, kid,” came a rough voice, crackling through a helmet speaker. “Where do you think you’re going?”

 

Rey whirled to face the person who had stopped her. A chrome plated mask stared down at her from a significant height.

 

“Sorry, sir,” she began, and the person laughed. They reached up to remove their helm and Rey was shown the sight of a sharp-faced woman, platinum hair swept back from a high brow. “Ma’am,” Rey amended quickly. “You must be Captain Phasma.”

 

The tall woman nodded, “Come on, this way.”

 

Rey had no reason to trust the woman, but something in her gut told her it would be ok. The Force? Or maybe just the alcohol? Either way, she followed Phasma down the corridor.

 

The woman stopped in front of a large steel door. Typing in a quick series of numbers she entered, waving an arm for Rey to follow, almost as an afterthought.

 

Rey stepped into the room. It was medium sized, Spartan, with few possessions about and almost no decoration. The only personal touches Rey could see were a holophoto on one of the walls, too far to make out the depicted persons, a series of medals displayed in a mounted shadowbox, and a _small garden box_ magnetically attached to the wall.

 

“Are those Xixidia flowers?” Rey gasped as she examined the delicate, thumbnail sized flowers peppering the greenery of the box.

 

“Good eye,” said Phasma, walking over to a small chill unit in the corner. She opened the door and retrieved a dark colored bottle.

 

Rey looked at the Captain with a newly impressed eye. “I hear they’re fiendishly difficult to grow.”

 

The Captain unscrewed the top of the bottle and took a large swig. “Could be, they were a gift from Hux so I wouldn’t know.”

 

Something in the Force _twanged_ but Rey ignored it. General Hux liked to garden? Despite herself she wondered if he had more plants on board, a larger garden even. Xixidia flowers, native to the underlevels of Kashyykk were an incredible treasure. Producing their own bioluminescence, they glowed a soft pulsing white, an effect that gradually faded after they were plucked. The only way to truly enjoy them was to grow them, but their delicate root systems made keeping them alive a challenge, not to mention the dangers of finding them in the first place.

 

The very first purchase Rey had made, once she hadn’t been forced to spend all her money on pure survival, had been a flimsi copy of Klip’s Almanac, the ‘Notable Plants Throughout the Galaxy’ edition. Each page containing sumptuous illustrations of the rarest and most stunning flowers, she read it each night before bed, tracing her finger along the images and wishing she could see each one. _Some day._

 

She wondered what Phasma had done to receive such a gift.

 

Phasma noted the way the girl went still at the sight of the flowers, and how her eyes were continually drawn to them, despite her efforts to focus on the Captain’s conversation. He was right, she thought to herself. He’s always right.

 

The Captain extended the bottle to Rey and she took it, not wanting to be rude. Her head still pulsed from the earlier liquor so when she raised the glass rim of the bottle to her lips she only pretended to sip.

 

“Have a seat,” said the Captain, raising her eyebrows. “Relax.”

 

Feeling anything but relaxed Rey perched on the edge of a chair, poised to flee.

 

The Captain sank into the cushions of the couch, leaning back, utterly at ease. She stripped off her gloves, setting them neatly on the low table in front of her. She extended her hand and Rey handed the bottle back.

 

She took a long swig before speaking. “So. You’re Ren’s new apprentice. Lots of rumors about you.”

 

Rey felt an indignant rage color her cheeks, “They’re not true--,” she began, but Phasma raised a hand.

 

“Makes no difference to me,” she laughed, “This ship is a hotbed of talk, most of it false. I’m sure you’ll hear rumors about me in time.” She wiggled the bottle in her hand, “There was one going around a while back that I got my strength from drinking human blood.” She grinned wolfishly.

 

Rey made a face. “Distasteful.”

 

Phasma laughed, “I kinda liked that one.”

 

Her laughter caused Rey to relax momentarily, the air spilling out of her lungs as she slumped forward. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding her breath. The tension on the ship was so tangible, it felt like a constant pressure weighing her down.

 

“So,” said Rey carefully. Testing the waters. “You’re a friend of General Hux?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know that he has friends.” Said Phasma, running a hand through platinum hair, smoothing it back. “Allies occasionally, pawns certainly, but friends? That implies a level of vulnerability I don’t think he enjoys.”

 

“Pawns,” said Rey, lips curling in disgust. “I’ve only been here two days and I’m already tired of feeling like a pawn.”

 

The Captain laughed again, a rich, melodic sound. “We’re all pawns. Every single one of us. Your problem is you have power. That makes you valuable. The rest of us, we can get away with staying on both their good sides, staying undetected.”

 

Rey snorted, “Just my luck then.”

 

“We all have to play the game. There’s a struggle for power on this ship and you’re being thrown right into the heart of it. No kingdom can rise with two kings.”

 

Rey kept her eyes on the floor, not meeting the Captain’s gaze. “That’s what they want then? To be king of this little Empire?”

 

“Wouldn’t you?” Phasma’s voice was sharp. “All that power at your fingertips? You wouldn’t reach for it?”

 

“I _have_ power. You said so yourself.”

 

“Ah but there’s a difference between power over yourself and power over others. You may be able to magic your will on people but to make them _want_ to follow you? That’s a whole different animal.” She glanced around, lowering her voice though they were alone in the room, “Anyway, we shouldn’t be talking like this.”

 

“Tell me about the General,” said Rey. Despite his earlier strangeness, Rey couldn’t help but find the man intriguing. Where Ren was all beast, passion, fire, and anger, Hux was a different story entirely, cold, erudite, dispassionate, except when she had angered him and his iron control had slipped momentarily. Her mind wandered back to the scene she had witnessed between the two men, well…perhaps not _entirely_ dispassionate. “I had a brief glimpse into his mind, but—,”

 

“You _what_?” said Phasma, disbelief dripping off her, “You used the _Force_ on _Hux_?”

 

“Yes?” said Rey, confused. “I mean, isn’t that why I’m here? To learn the Force, and then _use it_ on people _?_ Ren does all the time, I’ve seen him.”

 

“Kriff, girl,” Phasma sighed, “Hux isn’t just _people._ He can tell when you—he—fuck. You’ll just have to ask him about it. _I’m_ certainly not going to share his tales. But don’t try to use the Force on him. He almost _killed_ Ren when he tried it. I’ve never seen him so angry.”

 

Rey flushed red, “I didn’t know.”

 

“Consider it best practices not to use your witchcraft on anyone above you in rank,” Phasma leaned forward, locking eyes with Rey. “And that includes _me.”_

“Noted. Though I’m sure I’m supposed to object to you calling it witchcraft,” Rey paused, “Tell me, what is there between the General and Ren? I can’t really get a read on their--,” she grasped for a word and came up lacking, “--relationship.”

 

“You’re better off untangling a knot of rathtars,” replied Phasma simply. “Anyway, you’d best be going,” she continued, tossing her now-empty bottle into the waste chute with impeccable aim. “Your _Master_ will be wondering where you’ve been.”

 

Rey made a face, “He can wait for all I care.”

 

“Well then wander elsewhere, kid. I don’t want to catch his wrath.”

 

Rey stood and made her way to the doorway. Pausing awkwardly, she inclined her head. “Thank you Captain. For the drink and—and for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

 

* * *

 

The door shut behind the girl and Phasma turned to the doorway linking the sitting room with her bedroom.

 

“I assume you heard all of that.”

 

Hux stepped out from the shadows. “Just the last of it. I was detained on the bridge. Good acting though,” he lowered his voice to a hush, mimicking her earlier tone, “ _We shouldn’t be talking like this_. An excellent touch.”

 

“Sharing a secret gains trust,” she quoted, lifting a finger up in a mildly mocking way.

 

“Oh, so you _do_ listen to me.”

 

“How did you know she would like the flowers?” asked Phasma, impressed despite herself.

 

“She’s from the desert,” he replied simply, “We always crave that which we can’t have.”

 

“Bantha dung,” said Phasma, laughing, “You’ve been researching her, haven’t you? That’s what you _do_ Bren. You watch people. Learn their secrets. You’ve been that way since the academy.”

 

_Bren._ Hearing his nickname on Phasma’s lips made the corners of Hux’s lips curl up. She was one of the few that called him that and, thankfully, never in public. Few enough people knew that they had attended the Academy together, and even fewer knew they had been friends during those years. Usually no one guessed that top-of-her-class-in-everything-physical Phasma had been friends with bookish Brendol Hux. In many ways, it had been a mutually beneficial relationship.

 

“Well anyway, it worked.” She gestured to the flower box, “You can take those back now. I’ve got no use for them.” She sank onto her couch, draining the remaining contents of the bottle.

 

Hux nodded at the dark glass in her hand, “You have any more of that?”

 

Phasma grinned, “One of those nights, eh?” Without getting up she reached over into the chill unit and retrieved another bottle. She tossed it to Hux, who sat, sinking into a chair. He sipped delicately, the dark, rich flavor of the Ebla swirling in his mouth, and the heat of the alcohol pooling in his belly.

 

“So, this girl,” began Phasma, “I don’t see the appeal. I thought you were making progress with Ren in your own way.”

 

Hux ran a hand over his face. Phasma was the only one who knew about his trysts with Ren. He had told her once, stupidly, before he had learned caution. Distrust. Learned that every secret was a knife, cold and cutting, that could be pressed to his throat.

 

But he was in it now, and better to keep her in as an ally then cut her out and make an enemy of most of the crew. Phasma was well-loved. And, it could be said, she had her uses, blunt instrument though she was.

 

“Ren is…” he searched for words, “Hard to work with. Mercurial. Sometimes I think I’m making progress with him, and yet…” He took a sip. “If I declared now I doubt he would back me.”

 

Phasma’s blue eyes went wide, “You’re thinking of declaring now? It would split the Order.”

 

Hux scowled, “That’s why I’m not going to. Yet. But I’ve spoken to the Supreme Leader about it. He’s playing his own game it seems, as always. Content to stay in the shadows for now. But he’s not against the idea. Though of course, that doesn’t mean I have his support either.”

 

“And you think what, that you can replace Ren with this girl?” Phasma made a face.

 

“I think I can _control_ Ren with this girl. I won’t pretend to understand this Master-Apprentice dynamic the Knights have, but a house divided cannot stand. If she backs me, he will have to either follow, or fall.”

 

Phasma lifted her bottle in a mocking toast, “I’ll drink to that.”

 

Hux clinked the base of his bottle against hers gently and then peered into it with feigned interest, “Plus, she…intrigues me.” He’d meant it as nothing more than a passing comment but he could tell that Phasma saw through him immediately.

 

“Really? Her?” Phasma arched an eyebrow, a delicate expression on so powerful a woman. “Not historically your type.”

 

He shrugged and tipped back the rest of the bottle. Setting it on the table he turned to the door.

 

“I’ll have someone come for the flowers.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rey managed to find her way back to her room, well Ren’s rooms, primarily on instinct. Every so often she would brush out with the Force, feeling for his presence like a homing beacon, dark and pulsing, and she would take whatever turn seemed appropriate to bring her back there. When she finally reached the room she stood outside for a long minute, not wanting to open the door, to seclude herself once more.

 

She sighed finally and entered, stepping into the darkened room.

 

“How did it go?” came a voice from the darkness. Rey jumped in surprise.

 

“Poorly,” she answered sharply, rubbing her head where the liquor was beginning to knot into a headache. “Do you just sit in here with the lights off when I’m not around?”

 

He stood, looming out of the shadows, black clad and ominous. Surprisingly, his presence didn’t frighten her in the least. Something was different. The fear she had felt so strongly earlier had lessened, no longer a weight pressing on the front of her mind.

 

“You—,” she said as it dawned on her, “You were making me afraid _on purpose._ Why?”

 

He smiled tightly, “To teach you. You have to learn how to discern your feelings from those of others. The Force, when uncontrolled, makes you an open conduit.” He reached out and lifted her chin. “So it went poorly, why?”

 

She pulled her chin out of his hand, rubbing her own hand across it roughly, wiping away his touch. She felt his anger flare brightly at her movement.

 

Now that she could tell his feelings from her own, she felt more confident. He wouldn’t hurt her, she was sure of that. His intentions lay otherwheres. Unbidden, a feeling of warmth, of comfort rose within her and she wanted to step into his arms and—no, that one was his too. He was insidious, planting thoughts and feelings in her mind so lightly she couldn’t tell where they had originated. But she was learning.

 

“Teach me,” she said, as she pushed his thoughts from her mind, wiping them away like a hand over fogged glass. He allowed her to feel his fleeting pride at her accomplishment before retreating. “Teach me to do _that._ It’s subtle. Better than I’ve seen before.”

 

“Its not a mind trick in the way that you’re thinking,” he explained, and she was grateful that her dinner was no longer the topic at hand. She still needed to figure out how best to describe what had happened without giving anything away.

 

Kylo leaned in close to her and she moved back, startled, but he was only reaching for the light pad, thumbing the dial up a few notches to bring them out of total darkness into a dim half-light.

 

He laughed at her reaction, and moved to sit on one of the chairs. His long body sprawled out like a cat, with little regard for space. “Most mind tricks,” he continued, “are you pressing your will onto your opponent, this one is more like—,” he made an upward motion with his hands, “sucking poison from a wound. You draw their own emotions up to the surface.”

 

Rey frowned, “That’s not very helpful.” She moved towards her own door, “I agreed to come here because you offered to teach me and I assumed you knew how, but--have you even taught anyone before? Perhaps I should have stayed with your Uncle.”

 

He sneered at her, “Don’t do that.”

 

“What?” she asked, radiating innocence.

 

“Try to distract me. I set you a task, _apprentice,_ and now you tell me you failed. I expect you to report back on _why._ ” His face was unamused. He stood, moving toward her as though to pin her against the wall again, but Rey had had enough of that and moved forward to meet him in the center of the room.

 

“He doesn’t like me. You said so yourself.” She sighed and ran a hand over her hair, unconsciously smoothing it down to hide the bruises on her neck. “It wasn’t a complete failure. He hinted at the possibility of an alliance and said he wouldn’t mind having dinner again.”

 

“That’s not everything,” he said, grabbing her arm when she moved to turn away again. “Show me.” He placed his hands on either side of her face, pressed his forehead against her own. His eyes met hers and he was there, parsing through her memories with calloused hands.

 

Rey had learned since his last attempt, and this time she had an unexpected advantage on her side. She pulled the alcohol feeling forward, bringing that dizzy swirl to the front of her mind until vomit burned, hot and sour, at the back of her throat.

 

“You’re drunk,” Kylo whispered in amusement, head still pressed against her own.

 

Unfortunately, bringing the feeling to the forefront of her mind _did_ make Rey feel drunk. His breath was hot on her mouth and she wondered about the taste of his lips, forgetting momentarily that he was still in her head. Think of something else, Rey, she told herself as he shifted his body forward, bringing it closer to hers.

 

She pulled memories of dinner forward through the haze, letting him see. Hux hadn’t told her not to show the necklace so she did. That would be enough, she thought, something to anger him but not as much as the kiss would have. She showed Ren the General shaking her by the shoulders, and then his enigmatic parting, ‘ _Perhaps again sometime_. _’_ She let the alcohol wash over it all, blurring it, coloring the memories. She could feel Ren’s cold anger, contained but burning, pressing hard against her consciousness.

Seemingly satisfied, Ren ceded from her mind. The drunk feeling left her dizzy and she stumbled forward, almost knocking heads with him.

 

He caught her by the shoulders. “Bed,” he said coldly, and pressed her toward her room. “I told you I would teach you and I shall. Training starts tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Hux was awakened by a feeling of pressure at the end of his bed. He opened his eyes to find a blurry, half-naked Ren above him, straddling his legs.

 

“What are you doing here Ren?” he said with a sigh, “We agreed that your room was a better--,”

 

“Then you should have changed your access pad,” said Ren, cutting him off.

 

“Why are you here?” sighed Hux, shifting under Kylo’s legs despite himself. The sight of the knight looming over him was… _effective._ Powerful.

 

“You gave her a _gift_?” asked Kylo, voice accusatory. “So you _do_ want to fuck her.”

 

“Not everything is about sex, Ren,” drawled Hux, “I mean, for you it is—,”

 

Moving like lighting Ren shoved his fingers, middle and ring, into Hux’s mouth, pulling it open and forcing him to quiet. “Listen for once, General,” he whispered into Hux’s throat and the red haired man shuddered pleasurably. “Before you use that silver tongue of yours to explain everything away.”

 

Kylo removed his fingers from Hux’s mouth, sliding them out slowly. Hux couldn’t help but exhale a quivering breath, almost a moan.

 

“She is _my_ apprentice. Attempts to bribe her or buy her will be met with my utmost hostility.”

 

Hux rolled his eyes at that. “Lest you forget Ren, _you_ are the one that arranged our meeting. I want nothing to do with the girl.”

 

“Well then perhaps you should stay away from her for the time being. Since dinner went so _poorly_ it shouldn’t be too much of a trial for you.”

 

He bore down on Hux, pressing his weight down to pin the other man tight to the mattress. Ren ground his hips and Hux’s breath caught in his throat. The dark haired man’s mouth was hot where it met the General’s neck. He moved down to the crux of neck and shoulder, biting hard.

 

Hux positively _squirmed_ under his touch. He bucked his hips upwards involuntarily.

 

“ _Fine,_ ” replied the red-haired man, “I’ll keep my distance. However I won’t have you holding me responsible if she seeks me out herself.” He reached up as if to touch Ren’s face and found his arms pinned up above his head.

 

“Do you think that’s likely?”

 

“I’ve no idea. Like you said, she’s _your_ apprentice. Perhaps you should ask her.”

 

“She’s the one who destroyed Starkiller you know,” whispered Ren, flicking out his tongue to brush lightly along Hux’s skin.

 

Hux nearly choked, “I thought,—the stormtrooper—your father--,”

 

“It was _Rey_. Your life’s work, _Bren_ , gone in an afternoon.” The nickname was mocking as it fell from his lips.

 

Hux felt a flush creep up his body. _It had been the stormtrooper and Han Solo, handn’t it?_ No, he realized. That was what _Ren_ had told him. He had deliberately hidden the girl’s involvement. Planning, somehow already knowing she would come to them. Perhaps through that strange bond they shared.

 

Ren was watching him carefully, awaiting his reaction. Hux felt a wave of anger and heat wash over him, upset at the Knight’s manipulation. Rey had destroyed Starkiller. The revelation was less of a surprise than it should have been. Perhaps he had always know, or guessed, at her involvement. He could feel the power burning within her—it was what intrigued him so, drawing him to her like a moth to the flame.

 

“At least she didn’t destroy my face,” sneered Hux, pulling free of Kylo’s grip to grab his face with a hand, pressing his thumb into the knotted white scar that seared the line of his jaw.

 

Ren ripped his hand away and pulled backwards as Hux continued, “Though it’s not much of a loss, really. Its not as though you got your family’s looks.”

 

Anger and—was that embarrassment?—flushed over Ren’s face. _Ah,_ thought Hux, _an old wound. We never truly recover, do we?_

 

“Now _get out of my rooms,_ ” he growled, sitting upright and forcing Kylo back off the bed.

 

To his surprise the Knight turned to go, pausing for a moment in the doorway.

 

“Be careful General,” he gave a mocking salute. “Perhaps again sometime,” he finished, and was gone.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is MORE EXPLICIT than the others- you have been warned. I've been struggling with writers block and when all else fails write smut, yeah?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

 

The wall of the ship was cold against his back as he leaned. Waiting.

 

Every so often stormtroopers would march by, carefully averting their gazes from the masked man in black. _Good._

 

Kylo reached out his mind, looking again for Rey. How long had she been with Snoke now, an hour? Maybe more? It was strange to have lost the feeling of her. He was growing accustomed to it, that tie that bound them, twining their minds together until sometimes he wasn’t sure whose thoughts were whose. He wasn’t sure if it was strengthening or weakening him, this dependence, but he sought it anyway, drawn to this girl like a moth to the flame.

 

It had been three weeks now since she had come on board. The beginning of their training together had been--rocky, he would admit. She was a proud thing, ever unwilling to admit when her way was wrong. He almost smiled behind his helmet, well, hadn’t he been the same? The bond had helped. A link between them that made trust come easier, quicker. It was dangerous though, hard to look at her with an impassive eye after he had been in her mind.

 

A noise caught his attention and he glanced up at the General, standing stiffly across the hall from him. Waiting patiently for his own audience with the Supreme Leader. Strange, how two such powerful men could be forced to wait, like children sent to the office for discipline. Puppets dancing on Snoke’s strings, always.

 

Hux’s face, underlit by the blue glow of his data pad, was wan. Dark circles sat heavy under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Ren smiled beneath his mask, wondering if the fact that their night-time _visits_ had ceased had anything to do with that. As though he could sense Kylo’s smirk, Hux looked up, narrowing his eyes at the Knight.

 

“She’s been in there a while now. Worried?”

 

Kylo didn’t answer. _No,_ he thought to himself. _Maybe._

 

“You should be careful, Ren, you’re getting attached to that girl,” continued Hux, not making eye contact as he scrolled leisurely through his datapad.

 

“And you would know this how?” He hated the way Hux said _Ren_. The curl of it on his lips too close to another name, a name he had worn before.

 

“My eyes?” Hux shrugged, “I know you. I know how you act around people.”

 

Kylo narrowed his eyes. His hand clenched at his side. Oh, how he would like to press that hand around Hux’s throat, squeezing tight, stifling that _insufferable_ mouth as he slid his other hand down the General’s slacks and—he stopped the thought before it could go any further.

 

Hux’s eyes flicked down to Kylo’s clenched fist and he raised his eyebrows, smirking. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

 

Kylo growled, the sound mechanical through the panel of his mask.

 

Hux shrugged again—controlled, always so controlled—and went back to perusing his datapad. “Suit yourself.”

 

 _Return,_ came Snoke’s voice in Kylo’s mind. Ignoring Hux’s snicker as it followed him, Kylo whirled and passed through the entrance, relishing the harsh thud of the steel door as it hissed shut.

 

He stalked down the long chamber, eyes adjusting to the darkness to see his apprentice collapsed at the foot of the hologram, illuminated only by it’s flickering blue light. To his own surprise, a bolt of worry shot through him at the sight of her body, crumpled and still. He paced himself, walking slowly toward her slumped form though part of him was screaming to run.

 

“Collect her,” said Snoke.

 

Kylo glanced down at where she lay, her shallow breathing reassuring him that she was alive at least. He gestured at her prone form, “This was necessary?” He managed to keep the emotion from his voice.

 

“Oh, my Knight,” Snoke sighed, and the towering hologram steepled its fingers. “Your passion is your strength, but take care that it not be your weakness also. Your apprentice is unhurt. Her will is strong.”

 

Kylo bent down to pull Rey up into his arms, tucking her snugly against his chest. It was strange, this surge of emotion, and stranger still that he hadn’t felt anything through their bond as she had spoken with Snoke.

 

He turned to leave the hall, but before he could go his Master’s voice followed him.

 

“Oh, and Kylo?” The hiss of Snoke’s voice seared his ears and mind simultaneously. “Rumors have reached me that your plan has diverged from my own. You intend to lead the Empire rather than submit yourself?” Amusement twisted his Master’s face further and Kylo could tell that Snoke was merely toying with him.

 

“Only rumors, my Lord. I obey your will, as always.”

 

“Good. It would sadden me to hear that you were blinded by the possibility of a throne. Tempted by the fleeting powers of men. You, child of we who have always ruled from the shadows.”

 

Kylo bowed his head, eyes glancing across the soft face of the girl in his arms. “I know my place, Master.”

 

Snoke waved a hand, dismissing him. “Send in the General.” He waited until the knight had almost reached the door before continuing. “And remember, my Knight, I chose General Hux as carefully as I chose you. The krayt dragon who devours his own tail leaves himself vulnerable to attack. You would do well to consider that.”

 

“Master.” Kylo bowed again, taking the advice for what it was: a warning. He left to fetch Hux, stepping neatly into the hallway.

 

He could have sworn the General tensed at the sight of Rey, pallid and unconscious, draped across Kylo’s arms. Kylo tightened his hold involuntarily as he brushed past the other man, his terse nod the signal for Hux to enter as he continued down the hall. He felt the pull of Hux’s shadowed eyes for a long while after that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rey’s breathing was regular and she was beginning to stir by the time Kylo reached their rooms. He almost allowed himself a sigh of relief. _No._ Tension he hadn’t realized he was holding dripped down his shoulders like hot wax as he placed her carefully on the couch and disengaged his helmet, letting it slip through his fingers and onto the floor with a hard thud.

 

He reached out to tuck a stray curl behind Rey's ear and froze, Hux’s words burning bright in his mind— _you’re getting attached to that girl—_ kriff, he hated when the General was right.

 

Without warning, Rey sat bolt upright on the couch, nearly smacking her head against his own as she surged upward. A bloodcurdling scream passed her lips as her eyes stared wide, unblinking, at something that Kylo couldn’t see. Panicked, he grabbed hold of her and she struggled against his arms.

 

“ _He saw._ He saw everything,” she cried, “Its _cracked.”_

 

“Shh, Rey, its alright. It was--it was necessary,” He drew her close to his chest, remembering the first time his Master had forced his way into his mind. There had been no one to comfort him, after. No one to tell him it would go away. The shadowed images had lasted for days, that first time.

 

“You’ll be alright,” he murmured as brushed sweat-slicked hair back from her forehead, “It gets easier each time.” _It will make you stronger,_ he thought, but knew it wasn’t the right thing to say.

 

She swallowed hard, returning to herself, slowly, slowly. Her mouth moved, mouthing words she couldn’t yet speak. She clutched at him, curling into his body in an attempt to find solace, comfort, _anything._

 

Eventually, she found her voice. “He didn’t know, the bond.” She looked up at Kylo, brows drawn and mouth open in surprise. “You hadn’t told him.”

 

“It wasn’t necessary.” Not entirely the truth. He had known it would anger his Master. It wasn’t part of the _plan._ Knew they would have to break it, and he didn’t want to do that—not yet, he told himself, though something deeper within him whispered, _not ever._

 

“He knows now,” she choked out, “Angry, so angry. _Everything unbalanced.”_

“I know,” he nodded, “He warned me.”

 

Her eyes were haunted when she spoke again, “He has _such plans_ for us.” He could feel the anger inside her, a bird in a cage, beating hard against her chest, raising color to her cheeks. The power in her called to the power in him. A fierceness, singing in his veins. Their emotions swirled together. Anger, hot and bright. Fear, a steady green drip into a cavernous pool, and something else. Relief—that soothing feeling of warm hands, of having someone else who _knew,_ understood.

 

“I know,” he whispered again, and tilted his head down to catch her lips. Something shifted within them, a key twisting in a lock, mechanical pieces grinding together and reforming. Her hands met his chest but she didn’t push him away, merely tangled her fingers into his clothes to pull him close, closer.

 

“This isn’t why I came here,” she said when they broke apart, breath hot on his mouth. “Power over others. I wanted to _learn_ , to control the power within myself.” Her eyes were sorrowful.

 

“All power is power over others,” his mouth pulled tightly as he spoke, threading his hands back into her hair to pull her hard against his chest. “You thought because you came to the dark willingly it would change for you? That it would give up its secrets with none of its costs?”

 

Her silence was answer enough, but then she spoke. Thin, bitter words. “I was _stupid._ ”

 

“ _I know,_ ” he whispered. Again and again and again, because it was all there was left to say. And because he did know, had learned himself, that in playing with fire one must eventually get burned.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Though he was loath to obey any rules the Knight had set for him. Hux found himself avoiding both Kylo and his apprentice at any chance he got. It was difficult. It seemed whatever corner he turned there they were, their dark shapes haunting him.

 

His own rooms offered no sanctuary, as their faces found him even in dreams. Sleep was fleeting these days, and what little he had was plagued with these strange apparitions. Dreams that had been haunting him since the day Ren had brought his _blasted_ apprentice onboard.

 

When he dreamt he dreamt them both, had for weeks now, but it was worse in the wake of Rey’s time with Snoke. The images clearer, the dreams more likely to wake him. He felt what little energy he had draining away at the lack of sleep. _The Force,_ swirling around Ren and his apprentice. The bond between them taunting him. He could feel it, stretched tight between them, a constant humming distraction, _drawing him in._

 

The dreams were never the same twice, jumbled, garbled images linking him and Ren and Rey.

 

That night in his dreams Rey was kneeling before him, swearing allegiance. Extending her saber above her head as though in offering. An offering to him. He reached up to touch his forehead and found a circlet there, Emperor. The throne behind him sat empty, _waiting._

 

He cupped her chin in his hand, bidding her to rise. Taking her in. His hand traced down the curve of her throat and she shuddered under his touch.

 

She was a rough thing, harsh edges and shining cracks. He knew he could mold her in his image, sleek and cutting, a weapon for the ages. For the New Empire. But there was something in the raw edges of her that he relished. The same animal passion that burned within Ren burned in her too. Right below her breast, a bright, beating star at the heart of her. _The Force._

 

It called to him as it did with Ren. Singing through his veins in a way he hated and loved equally. A power that he was privy to, but could never truly understand. Could never grasp.

 

But she was a bright star, and what was he but a star killer?

 

His hand tightened around her throat and she gasped. Her face flushed as she met his eyes, lips parted with want. She tried to speak but found no air. Her pretty golden neck glowed red beneath his hands.

 

Her eyes, a shifting swirl of green, brown, and gold met his defiantly and he knew by her stare she was not afraid of him. What was his power compared to her own? Her locked gaze sent a tremor of desire through him and he released her, pulling her on top of him, sending both of them tumbling backwards onto the throne. The touch of her skin on his _burned,_ hot sensation washing over him as she straddled his hips.

 

She closed her eyes and arched her back as he pressed kisses, sweet and hot, down the curve of her neck, traced the red marks of his hands with a searing tongue—he closed his eyes and when he opened them again it was no longer Rey on top of him but Kylo.

 

The knight’s mouth was beautifully cruel as he threaded a hand into Hux’s hair and pulled back sharply. When he spoke it was low and tangled, jumbled words and phrases, nonsense to Hux’s ears.

 

“ _Triumvirate. The threefold crown. Victory. The krayt dragon devours its own tail. Failure_.”

 

The mumbling continued as Ren, blank faced and fiery-eyed, bent down to bite at Hux’s neck, hard, harder—

 

“Ow!” cried Hux aloud, sitting up in his bed with a start. His neck throbbed hotly.

 

He sagged back against his headboard when he realized it had all been a dream.

 

Awake now, he stood, pulling on a robe and grabbing his datapad from the desk where it lay. He sat down at his desk to review reports, no use wasting his newfound insomnia.

 

His datapad beeped as he activated it. A message flashed across the screen, warning him that unusual levels of after hours motion had been detected in one of the training rooms. With a quick press of buttons he called up the security feed, the datapad projecting a palm sized holo of two forms in blue light across his desk.

 

Their shapes were somewhat distorted by the angle of the holovid but there was no doubt it was them, the very people frequenting his dreams. Hux adjusted the feed carefully, unsure why he continued to watch. Ren was authorized to be wherever he wanted on the ship, and certainly Hux had more important things to attend to, sleep, for one. And yet, he didn’t deactivate the feed.

 

He watched as Ren corrected Rey's stance, hands soft. He had never seen the Knight so soft, so tamed. The thought made something within him rage. Who was this girl who had taken his beast and gentled him?

 

And Rey, the weeks onboard had been kind to her. She was blossoming under Snoke’s hand, shaped by Kylo; changing, morphing, destroying the old self and being born anew. No longer a pawn, she was becoming a knight in truth. She was _different_ now, since her meeting with Snoke. He knew even from what little contact he had with her.  

 

She was _haunted_ now, just as they all were. Broken, so Snoke could play with their pieces and make them whole again.

 

Hux watched as Ren bent low over her, curving his form around her own to whisper something in her ear, or perhaps against the skin of her neck. Jealousy surged through him.

 

Rey glanced back for a moment and Hux could have sworn she was looking right at him, out through the holo and into his eyes. Goosebumps erupted over his skin at the touch of her eyes, dark and wide, an animal hunted.

 

He would have to tread carefully with her. He knew the bond between them meant Rey would never truly turn against her master, but perhaps she could still be swayed. He sighed, unsure of what he even wanted anymore. If Ren staked a claim to the Empire wouldn’t it be easier to submit, to serve under his hand? A grimace cracked his face at the thought. _No._ He could never do it. There was only one reason he would ever kneel in front of Ren. He laughed aloud at the thought, surprising himself. _Kriff, but it had been a while._

 

Movement in the holo broke his reverie. He watched as they fought. Hand to hand now, sabers tossed aside, a whirling blur of blows. Ren had the superior reach and strength but Rey was fast, darting this way and that, anticipating blows before they were thrown. It was dazzling to watch.

 

Suddenly, she went down, legs swept out from under her by an out slung foot. In an instant Kylo was on top of her, pinning her to the mat. And then, just as suddenly, they were no longer fighting. Hux watched as the Knight kissed her and she rolled her hips up into his, a strange emotion rising up in his chest, choking him.

 

He tried to tear his eyes away but couldn’t, the strange, grainy blue of the holo like a flickering oracle. He watched as they fumbled with each other’s clothes, ripping and pulling, not caring where anything landed. Soon they were naked, powerful glistening bodies spread across the surface of the mat, made miniature upon his desk. It felt wrong but right to watch them, to witness something so intimate.

 

Hux felt himself grow hard at the sight of Ren, lowering his head between his apprentice’s legs as she arched up into him. _Fuck, why didn’t the security feed have sound?_ He fiddled with the dials, trying to make the holo bigger, but to no avail.

 

His hand clenched down on his thigh involuntarily. _They would never know._ One hand fumbled with the tie of his robe, pulling it open as the other hand snaked down the front of his pants. A hiss of relief escaped his mouth as he took his length into his hand.

 

He worked himself slowly, teasing up and down as he watched the shapes in front of him. He could tell from each arch of Rey’s back when Ren thrust his fingers into her and he timed his strokes to match, imagining that he was there, body curved behind Ren’s, hands tight on the other mans hips as he thrust, and thrust. _Fuck_ , he thought, pressing himself tighter into his clenched hand.

 

He remembered the day that Rey had seen them. That naïve terror in her eyes, tempered with the pull of curiosity. The image that Ren had burned into his brain of the three of them surfaced and he paused in his strokes, not wanting to come too hard, too fast.

 

As if he could see it too the hologram of Ren moved, pulling Rey over onto all fours, working his cock with feverish strokes as he waited to take her. _Do it,_ thought Hux, palming his balls with one hand as he held the base of his shaft with the other, waiting as well. He moaned as Ren slid into her. The expression of bliss on Rey’s face captivating him. Kriff he wanted to be there, completing the image, those pert lips wrapped around his cock as he moved.

 

The pace of Ren’s thrusts increased and Hux knew he must be close. He sped his own strokes. Ren’s head shifted, glancing up at the camera for maybe a second and Hux again had that strange, fleeting feeling that they could see him. His grip on his cock tightened. But Ren looked down again and the moment passed.

 

Their pace was furious now, and he watched as Ren curved over Rey, his body dwarfing hers. He threaded his hands into her hair and pulled, slamming her back onto his cock. A few more thrusts and he came, pulling out to spill himself across Rey’s back. Hux followed not long after, biting his lip hard enough to bruise as he came hard in his hand.

 

And he was exhausted suddenly, barely managing to switch off the datapad before he collapsed into his bed.

 

Sleep had found him at last.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter, but the next one should follow shortly (they were originally one piece but the plot flows better this way)
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

“Oof,” grunted Rey as the Captain’s fist connected solidly with her abdomen.

 

“Sloppy,” called Phasma crisply, dancing back out of reach of Rey’s admittedly slapdash return punch.

 

Rey rubbed at her wrapped wrists, wincing where they ached from each blow. “Can I use the Force yet?” she asked.

 

“If you use witchcraft I stop pulling my punches,” replied the Captain, lashing out with a heavy foot, which Rey dodged, barely.

 

“ _These_ are pulled?” asked Rey in astonishment as she avoided another blow, “Kriff, you’re hitting me harder than Ren does.”

 

A wide grin broke across the Captain’s face. “That’s because I’m stronger than him,” she punctuated her pause by throwing an elbow, “And because he’s _definitely_ pulling his punches,” she continued. Using Rey’s momentary confusion Phasma lunged in, arms wide, catching Rey around the waist and tackling her to the mat. Moving with a practiced efficiency, she twisted Rey’s arm behind her back until the girl slapped the ground in surrender. They both sat back, panting. Rey rubbed at the place on her belly that had taken the hit.

 

“What do you mean by that?” asked Rey, “You think he’s going easy on me, not training me hard enough?”

 

The captain laughed, an easy sound. “No. That’s not what I think.” Her eyes were shrewd. “You know, he’s been different since you came on board. Your _Master._ ”

 

“Don’t call him that,” replied Rey, annoyed. She liked Phasma, looked forward to their training sessions even, but she didn’t enjoy being needled. “You make me sound like a slave.”

 

“Aren’t you?” Phasma leaned back, and pulled her arms across her body in a stretch. “The both of you. Slaves to your crazy religion.”

 

“It’s not like that,” Rey sighed. The Force did sound crazy to those that couldn’t experience it. Hell, sometimes it seemed crazy to her and she was immersed in it daily. But it wouldn’t do for the Captain to talk like that, if it got back to Snoke, well--

 

“Stretch,” ordered Phasma, nodding at her. “Or you’ll regret it tomorrow.”

 

Rey groaned but knew the Captain was right. She pulled an arm over her head and began to loosen tight muscles.

 

Phasma continued her own stretches, making a face of disgust. “I hope you don’t call him Master when you’re fucking.”

 

Rey choked, flushing a brilliant red across her face and all down her neck. “ _What?_ ”

 

“Oh please,” the Captain arched an eyebrow, “The whole ship knows, its not as though you’ve been particularly stealthy about it. And if they didn’t know they were guessing. You know the rumors started the day you came on board.”

 

Rey ran a hand down her face, mussing her sweat-slicked hair. _Stupid,_ she chastised herself. _It was stupid to think anything could be kept secret._ The sex itself she wasn’t ashamed of. The first time, maybe, but she wasn’t going to be embarrassed for seeking out what little comfort she could get onboard this hell-ship. Physical or otherwise.

 

In many ways it was merely a corporeal extension of the bond that already lay between them _. That stupid fucking bond,_ she thought to herself, not for the first time. It pulled at her constantly, a bright itching sensation in her mind. If she focused on it now she could feel him, his slow, deep inhale out of sync with the rapid pace of her own breathing. As though he was always standing at her shoulder.

 

She frowned at Phasma, “It’s just a—a release of tension, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.”

 

Phasma snorted, “Now you sound like Hux.”

 

“Ugh,” Rey’s frown deepened at the sound of the General’s name and she flopped backwards onto the mat.

 

“Troubles?”

 

“He and Ren are embattled in some sort of eternal pissing contest,” she heaved a sigh, “I’m doing my best to stay out of it.”

 

“Hux is a good man. Few would say the same of your Master.”

 

Rey wasn’t surprised that Phasma would be so blunt. She obviously wasn’t scared of Ren, and even seemed to hold him in decent regard. The respect of one warrior for another. Her reverence for Hux, on the other hand, seemed uncharacteristic. Rey had found herself wondering previously what existed between them.

 

Without even meaning to, she brushed out her consciousness against Phasma’s, tentative fingers questing, wondering. Images flipped across the surface of the older woman’s mind, clear and glossy. Each person’s mind felt different and Phasma’s was like a catalog: neat, orderly. Emotions were reined in and kept in check, given their allotted area, but at the back, in the dark along the spine, hid an animal—chained and waiting to be released. Startled, Rey stumbled back to the forefront of the Captain’s awareness. An image, bright and perfect, settled in Phasma’s mind. She and Hux, young, uniformed, a warm, soft feeling of kinship.

 

“You were at school together. You and Hux,” said Rey, sitting up.

 

Phasma narrowed her eyes, “And how would you know _that_?”

 

“Lucky guess,” lied Rey.

 

“Bantha dung.” Phasma’s voice was heated as she leaned towards Rey, face twisted in anger, “I warned you not to magic me.”

 

Rey bit her lips to stop from speaking. The captain was one of the few people she might consider a friend onboard the _Finalizer_. She didn’t want to jeopardize that relationship, and somehow she didn’t think an excuse like ‘ _sometimes I can’t help it’_ would hold much water with Phasma. All the same, something bothered her, gnawing away at her thoughts.

 

“You couldn’t feel it,” Rey said at last, “You couldn’t feel that I was in your head.”

 

Phasma flung out her arms in frustration, “ _Kriff,_ kid. That doesn’t make it alright to just poke around—,”

 

“No,” said Rey, interrupting. She had realized what had been bothering her. “ _He_ _could_. The General could. He felt it when I touched his mind.”

 

_That_ brought the Captain up short from her tirade, closing her mouth with a snap. Cogs whirred in Rey’s head, pieces shifting until they fit into an answer.

 

“Hux is force sensitive,” said Rey.

 

There was a long pause.

 

“No one is supposed to know,” said Phasma. Her bright, icy eyes meeting Rey’s dark ones with a sliver of warning.

 

“He hasn’t been trained,” said Rey, a statement rather than a question. The image she had seen in his mind, that night at dinner so many weeks ago, pushed forward. “Not enough power?” she continued, piecing together the story from what she knew of the General and using Phasma’s facial expressions as guideposts. “What, so he can sense the Force but he can’t use it?”

 

Phasma shrugged, her anger over Rey’s intrusion into her mind forgotten for now. “As far as I understand it.”

 

“No wonder he hates us,” said Rey, realization crashing over her like an ocean wave. Such power, such connectedness, to feel it and have it stay always outside your reach. A wave of pity for the General rose up and she shoved it down. He wouldn’t like that.

 

“Well, I’m fairly certain he hates Ren because Ren is an asshole to him,” said Phasma, “But its possible that’s one of many reasons.”

 

“Does Kylo know?” asked Rey, the full weight of the revelation beginning to settle on her.

 

“I’m sure he has his suspicions,” came a new voice, ringing out through the training room.

 

“General,” said Phasma, scrambling to her feet and snapping off a quick salute.

 

“If you’ll excuse us, Captain,” Hux’s voice was tight, clipped, and Rey felt a shiver of anticipation run up her back. Phasma saluted again and made her way out of the room. Rey rose to meet him, standing tall, willing herself not to be intimidated.

 

They stood then, toe to toe for a moment, Hux and Rey. She tracked his cold green eyes as they raked their way down her form, a rumpled, sweaty mess in training clothes. He was impeccable as always, red hair slicked back neatly, skillfully pressed greatcoat over a tidy uniform. His mere presence made Rey feel even more a mess. A child caught in a disobedience. The only thing that belied his poise was the dark circles under his eyes; purple smudges looking like they had been swiped there by errant thumbs.

 

“So sorry to interrupt your training,” he began, a tilt of his head giving away his disdain, “Or should I say, your chatting, as the good Captain seems to be more occupied by giving away my secrets than by teaching you anything of use.”

 

Rey’s eyes narrowed at that. She hoped Phasma wouldn’t be subject to trouble on her account. “I’m surprised she knew. You don’t seem the type to share your confidences.”

 

“We were all young and stupid once,” he replied, surprisingly candid. His eyes slid off her face to focus on something in the distance of the training room.

 

“Does it bother you?” she asked, curiosity outweighing her hesitation at asking such an intrusive question. This man, this enigma, this perfect shell of control so very close to shattering, he was captivating. She wanted to know more. “When Ren and I use the Force?”

 

He didn’t answer, eyes still locked on some point past her. She pressed on.

 

“Can you—can you feel our bond?”

 

His eyes snapped back to her face, a flush rising up his neck, “ _Yes_ ,” he hissed, sudden anger twisting the planes of his face into something harsher. “Yes I can feel it.” He stepped toward her, eyes blazing. “It pulls at me. Gnaws at me, every second that I’m awake—the awful hum of it.” His hands were at her waist now, clenched tight, nails digging into her sides. Rey’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, fanaticism burning bright in his sunken eyes. “Even in dreams, you and him, haunting me.”

 

There was something so _hungry_ in him. Pulling her in with his eyes as if to devour her.

 

And just as suddenly, it was gone, snapping back into propriety. Hands unclenched and folded behind his back, pristine and proper. But the tension in his body remained, pulled taut like a bowstring.

 

Rey was taken aback by how fragile he looked, like he could snap at any moment. Anger rose within her at the thought that it was in some way her fault. _I’m sorry_ , she wanted to say, but the words died in her throat. He wouldn’t want them anyway. Would hate them. She raised a hand to brush it against his cheek and he flinched but didn’t pull away, almost as though he expected her to strike but chose to accept the blow.

 

His face was cool under her touch. Skin smooth with a hint of stubble ghosting under her fingers.

 

Something _twanged_ in her mind as Ren focused his attention on her, curiosity blazing. She felt a surge of emotion—something strangely _soft_ —pool in her mind and wondered if it had come from her or Kylo. It was so hard to tell their thoughts apart these days. She pinched the bond shut with slippery fingers, keeping him out. This was her moment alone. Not to be shared.

 

Hux allowed her questing fingers for only a moment before pulling back. Stepping sharply out of reach.

 

“Control yourself, girl.”

 

His eyes, glasslike, shifted again to the corner of the room and Rey realized what he had been looking at. _The surveillance camera._

 

“It was _you_ ,” she whispered, realization dawning. “You were the one watching us.” By sheer force of will she managed to keep from blushing at the thought.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” snapped Hux.

 

She laughed then, relishing in the shift of power between them. A step closer to even footing. “Suit yourself General.” She turned to leave, sensing that Ren was making his way toward her and hoping to avoid an argument. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr!
> 
>  
> 
> [Orange-lightsaber](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/orange-lightsaber)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting in to some plot!
> 
> If you'd like to see my fanart and random Star Wars thoughts come join me on [Tumblr](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com)
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

 

It was the first good measure of sleep he had had in a while. Dark and dreamless, which was why Hux was more than usually peeved to be torn from it so suddenly.

 

“You talk in your sleep, did you know that?” The knight’s voice was casual as he leaned in the doorway to Hux’s bedroom.

 

Hux sighed, rolling his eyes back slightly as he wiped a hand down his face, rubbing away the satisfaction of sleep. “Why are you here Ren?”

 

“We’re going on a mission.” And indeed, Hux noticed, the Knight was dressed in full regalia, saber clipped to his belt and helmet in hand.

 

“You don’t usually come to say goodbye,” said Hux, annoyed. “Afraid you’ll miss me?”

 

“We includes you.”

 

“I—what?”

 

“Orders,” shrugged Ren. “We’re meeting with a delegation on Dathomir, trying to broker an alliance. Apparently the Supreme Leader believes you’ll lend us an air of—,” he paused, “—gentility.”

 

“You mean he doesn’t trust you not to fuck it up,” Hux couldn’t help but chuckle, “Well I suppose that’s as close as you’ll ever come to admitting I’m better at something than you.”

 

The flush of anger that colored the Knight’s face almost made Hux’s untimely awakening worth it. He stood, slinging his bedsheet around his hips for modesty’s sake. A small smirk crossed his face as he watched the Knight’s eyes dip to the edge of the sheet before pulling sharply upwards again. “Then _kriff,_ Ren _,_ get out so I can pack.”

 

“Meet us in the hangar bay,” ordered the Knight, imperious. “And bring your dress blacks, there’s going to be a party.”

 

“ _Great._ ”

 

Ren smirked, “Look lively Hux, things are starting to get interesting.”

 

Hux rolled his eyes as he snapped off an ironic salute, “First Knight.”

 

An inclined head was Ren’s response, “General.” He whirled and left the room.

 

_Blast_ , thought Hux as he scrambled to his dresser, _I really need to change those locks._

* * *

 

Hux met them in the hangar bay approximately half an hour later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and toting a pack filled with necessities. He set it down next to two others at the base of the ramp.

 

The Knight Master and his apprentice were already busy at work.

 

Hux noted the ease between them, words seeming to fly unspoken as they loaded the ship with supplies, moving simultaneously--as if they were one being. It was an eerie sight.

 

And the energy between them, that crackling, distracting energy. The air was thick with it, pulling his focus away from the task at hand. Annoyed, he shook his head to clear it. Ren noticed the motion immediately. _Of course._

“Rough night, General?” he asked, tone cordial.

 

“Well, I was awoken earlier than I would have liked,” Hux glared back in response.

 

“Negotiations wait for no man,” smirked Ren, hefting his pack over a shoulder. He strode up the ramp onto the ship, leaving Hux and Rey at its base.

 

“He’s in a mood this morning,” Hux commented, hoping to ease the tension in the air. He wondered whether Rey had told her Master that he had been the one who had seen them, or if she had been as good as her word.

 

The hint of a smile graced her lips. “He enjoyed waking you.” To his surprise she grabbed his pack as well as her own, thin arms strong as she slung them onto her back. “Not a fan of packing light, are you General?”

 

“Hux,” he corrected, not knowing what came over him. “You’re not part of the military, you’ve no obligation to call me by my title.”

 

“Hux,” she breathed, softly, as though tasting the name on her lips.

 

He felt a shiver run through him. _Well, that may have been a mistake_. Kriff. _At least you didn’t tell her to call you Brendol._ Thankfully, his mouth managed to continue forming human words even as his brain went sluggish, “—And I was told it was a formal event. I packed accordingly.”

 

Rey frowned slightly at that news, “Ah, well this is the first I’m hearing of if.” She glared into the cockpit— _at Ren no doubt,_ he smiled to himself—and strode off into the ship. He watched her go, all taut lines and whip-cord muscle in tight training clothes. _This is going to be a long few days._

 

He followed them onto the ship, shaking his head slightly at the absurdity of it all. _Stars._ He hoped the journey would pass quickly. At least once they were planet-side he would be able to seek relief from these strange creatures. _It wouldn’t be hiding_ , he told himself, _merely avoiding an annoyance. Two annoyances._

 

They were already in the cockpit when he entered, Rey practically humming in excitement as she took the pilots chair. Hux was surprised that Ren would let his apprentice take the lead in front of others, but perhaps he was underestimating exactly how much the Knight hated flying. Come to think of it, he’d never seen Kylo pilot a ship. Unsurprising, perhaps, given who his father and uncle were. He filed that thought away for further use as he seated himself at a table.

 

Takeoff was smooth under Rey’s hand, and they soon found themselves hurtling through the void, stars smoothing into streaks as the jump to lightspeed took hold.

 

As he perused shipping reports on his datapad, Hux became aware of an unspoken conversation taking place in front of him. Two sets of tense shoulders peeked out over the tops of the chairs. He watched as Ren extended an arm, attempting to rest it proprietarily on his apprentice’s neck, only to have her twist away, jabbing at the buttons on the console with unnecessary vehemence. He found himself suddenly unable to resist a smirk.

 

As though he could feel Hux’s enjoyment and wished to quash it, Ren stood suddenly.

 

“General, allow me to show you the ship.”

 

Hux arched an eyebrow, unsure of what the Knight was playing at. “I believe I’m familiar with the layout of a standard-issue Upsilon class, Ren. But if you’d like to speak to me in private you need only say so.”

 

Words slunk out through gritted teeth. “Perhaps we could speak in private?”

 

Hux allowed himself a smile. It was truly the small victories. “Why, I would be _thrilled._ ” Standing, he followed Ren out of the cockpit and down into the corridors.

 

He was honestly surprised that they made it nearly to the other end of the ship before Ren crashed into him, body-slamming his back against the wall.

 

“What do you think you’re playing at?” Hux managed to choke out as Ren’s arm lay tight across his throat.

 

“You need to watch yourself,” came the Knight’s voice, a low growl forced out between pink lips.

 

“What are you _talking_ about?” asked Hux, rubbing his neck as the pressure was released. His hair, slightly disheveled, fell into his face and he smoothed it back. “Rey? I knew that blasted girl wouldn’t keep her word about not telling you, _kriffing_ unnatural you two are—,” he trailed off at the look on Kylo’s face.

 

“Not telling me what?”

 

Oh. _Oh_. So she _hadn’t_ told him. The look of hurt neediness on Kylo’s face was almost more satisfying than Hux could bear. He smiled. “You’re in each other’s heads and she _still_ manages to keep secrets from you. I’m starting to see why you’re so taken with her, Ren.”

 

The Knight’s face twisted with rage, lips curling as he struggled to find words. Hux reached up, cupping the side of Ren’s face in cool leather. Loving the fact that the other man couldn’t help but press his face into Hux’s gloved palm.

 

“Oh, you _miss_ me, don’t you Ren?” he drawled. “You and her, you’re too much alike. You need _direction._ What good are weapons with no one to aim them?” His free hand met Kylo’s chest, trailing down the planes of his abs to rest below. He could feel the knight twitch against him. “On your knees,” he commanded.

 

Kylo sank to his knees. There was something eager in his eyes and Hux relished it. Loved seeing the other man tumble from anger to desperation so quickly. Ren reached up to fumble with Hux’s belt, but a grip of his hair stopped him. “You think it will be that easy? No.”

 

He stepped back, out of reach, leaving Ren on his knees. Something akin to a whine slipped from the other man’s mouth. Hux took no mercy on him, stepping back even further.

 

“What was it that you wanted then? What were you so desperate to tell me that you needed to assault me in the back of the ship?”

 

Kylo moved to stand, but a barked order kept him down. “No. From your knees.” Hux watched him squirm, torn between the desire to obey and the apparent gravity of the situation.

 

“I had a vision,” said Ren, sullen now. “It was you, dead.”

 

There was a moment where neither spoke.

 

“Wait, you attacked me because you’re _worried about me?_ Kriff, Ren, that’s just an insane--,” he paused for a moment, considering it. “No, actually, that seems exactly like something you would do.”

 

The knight surged upward from the ground. Resting his wrists on Hux’s shoulders he took the General’s face into his hands. Hux’s eyes focused on his mouth, struggling to form words as the knight searched for something to say, some way to explain. Eventually the dark haired man simply pressed his forehead against Hux’s own.

 

Hux squirmed uncomfortably in the Knight’s grasp. This was _different._ There was feeling here, thick emotion, something apart from the desperate power plays of their trysts.

 

After a moment that lasted no more than the blink of an eye and simultaneously for several millennia the Knight released him. Hux was treated to one last glare before Kylo swirled away, cloak billowing, to return to the cockpit.

 

The red haired man sagged back against the wall of the ship, exhaling a slow stream of breath as he felt his quickened pulse settle. _What the fuck had gotten into that man?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was several hours more before the ship touched down on Dathomir.

 

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Hux had kept silent mostly. Watched from afar as Kylo attempted to teach Rey the rules of Darjak on the holo-table that seemed to come standard with every ship these days. The desert girl had many talents but it seemed games of strategy were not already among them.

 

Kylo hadn’t been able to keep himself from glancing up at the other man every few minutes, alternating his glances at Hux with glares at his apprentice, who took his mood in stride. He hoped Rey was satisfied now. She had pushed him to tell Hux what he had seen, forced him to admit that he was, well, _worried_. He seethed. She had seen a piece of it too, the vision that had swallowed his consciousness as they had made the jump to hyperspace, white lines streaking into shapes and colors that weren’t really there.

 

A brief jostle brought him out of his reverie as the ship touched down. Rey winced at the inelegance of the landing and muttered a quick apology. She felt strange to him, closing off her emotions as she was. He wondered if Hux had been telling the truth. Was she keeping something from him?

 

A protocol droid greeted them at the end of the docking ramp, breaking into introductions as the three travelers got their bearings, taking in the view around them. They had docked at a villa settled atop a small hill, overlooking a village in the valley below—the home of their host—a Vilaudian Baron who had allied with the Empire in its previous incarnation and had been, if not a friend, then at least an acquaintance of the First Order for some time.

 

Kylo glanced out through the open hangar doors, watching as the afternoon sun glinted off the red tiled roofs of the town below.

 

“General, Master Knight, Lady,” came the warbling voice of the H4 unit. “Allow me to escort you to your suite.”

 

“That should be suites. Plural,” corrected Hux.

 

“Ah,” beeped the droid, nervous in that grating way that only a protocol droid could manage, “I am _so_ sorry General, but due to the influx of guests we were only able to secure a single suite for your party. Though there are of course, several rooms within.”

 

Kylo raised an eyebrow, wondering if this would be the straw that caused Hux to crack. He himself felt his hand itching toward his lightsaber, one swing and the annoyance of the protocol droid would be taken care of. However, he knew he was supposed to defer to Hux on this mission.

 

The General’s frown deepened and Kylo and Rey watched as he considered whether raising hell about the arrangement would suit their goals or not. Eventually he seemed to decide against it.

 

“I suppose that will be acceptable.”

 

The droid beeped in happiness and began to roll toward a set of doors, presumably leading them to their rooms. “General, your presence is requested in the war room. Lord Hiram and several compatriots are awaiting you there.”

 

Hux slipped his pack off his shoulder and pressed it into Kylo’s chest. “Take this to the room.”

 

Kylo narrowed his eyes, _what kind of presumptuous kriff…_ but he caught a glimpse of warning in the General’s eyes. _Right. Presenting a united front for potential allies._ He wrapped his arms around the bag and pulled it the rest of the way out of Hux’s arms, perhaps more sharply than was strictly necessary.

“We’ll reconvene at your convenience, General,” said Kylo, nodding to Rey as they followed the droid. A second droid had appeared to lead Hux where he needed to go. Kylo felt a surge of uneasiness follow him at the sight of the General’s retreating back but he pressed it down. He had warned the man to be careful, what more could he do? And why should he care if the General got himself killed anyway? Though it _would_ likely derail the negotiations. Leave it to Hux to be in mortal peril at an inconvenient time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Having left their things with the droid, Kylo and Rey made their way down the hill and into the town.

 

“We need to get you some more appropriate clothing,” he explained, giving Rey a quick glance up and down. She blushed slightly, embarrassed, cheeks turning a fetching pink in the pearly light. He wished they didn’t have to, in fact, he wished they could simply spend the evening in their rooms and leave the negotiations to Hux, but he knew Rey would decline. She was uncomfortable enough about their _arrangement_ when they were onboard the Finalizer, where he was in control of their surroundings, here, in a strange place, surrounded by strange people, it seemed unlikely.

 

“I had hoped I could just wear this?” She gestured down at her training clothes, “I mean, you’ll be wearing that, right?”

 

He shook his head. “I have other things. Coming to a party dressed for battle may send the wrong message to potential allies. We want the negotiations to go smoothly.”

 

The early evening light filtered through the streets of the town. Edging everything in shades of pink and honey. It felt strange, to walk about unmasked on a planet, to feel the heat of the setting sun on his face. A sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time.

 

Rey turned her face upwards to catch the dying light. He watched as she breathed deeply, enjoying the air, real true air, not the dry, recycled miasma of the ship. The golden light bathed her features, casting her in an otherworldly glow. He tore his eyes away. Focusing instead on their next steps as the moved down the road, drawing closer to the shops.

 

As they turned down a shadow-dappled street Rey stiffened beside him. He felt a surge of strong emotion as she caught his elbow.

 

“Look,” she said, voice low, directing his attention to the posters plastered along the walls of the alley. Though they were old and peeling, Kylo recognized them. Propaganda posters of the First Order, featuring General Hux, standing tall. His painted visage bore down into them, green glass eyes impassive. The message was clear: the Empire is watching. Always watching.

 

But a strange, sick feeling rose in Kylo’s stomach as he noticed the next poster. Someone had gouged out both eyes, ripping and tearing the flimsi until only darkness remained. Across the chest a heavy hand had scrawled “Remember Starkiller.”

 

Rey stood, examining a poster ahead, body tight with nerves. Kylo stepped up behind her and she nearly jumped out of her skin. This image had been defaced as well. This time the artist had drawn a crudely smeared eye in the center of Hux’s forehead. It wept rust brown tears down the General’s face. Kylo didn’t need to step closer to recognize dried blood as the medium used. The wording read, “He sees all.”

 

“Ominous,” remarked Rey softly, as if reading his thoughts.

 

He nodded, and swept forward, laying his hand on Rey’s shoulders to pull her out of the alley. The contact was comforting, but whether it was for his benefit or hers he couldn’t say. She shivered under his hand despite the warmth of the evening.

 

He was glad now that they had disguised themselves. Or rather, that they had come sans full First Order regalia. He hadn’t known things here were so tumultuous. He had thought the First Order had a decent presence on Dathomir.

 

A proud planet, it had its own lingering history of brutality. The Nightsisters, a matriarchal society of dark side users, had lived here once, before Snoke’s purge. Kylo had been part of that effort himself, hunting down and slaying the last known Nightsister, a crone hiding out on a backwater rock of a planet. Now _that_ had been a tough fight. He shuddered at the memory of it.

 

He felt rather than saw Rey open her mouth to comment and then close it again. He knew what she would say. The vision of Hux had weighed heavily on her as well. She was worried.

 

It was strange, he thought as they continued on toward the shop, he wouldn’t have believed Rey cared much for the General, and yet—well, there was certainly _something_ between them, but whether it was his own feeling for the man—a feeling he hadn’t yet accepted nor managed to puzzle out the meaning of, even in his own mind—or a feeling all Rey’s own he couldn’t be sure. He could see the appeal, certainly. He was magnetic, that man. An orator through and through, he could make men do with words things Kylo couldn’t even manage by reaching into their minds.

 

And as for Kylo and Rey, well, Hux hadn’t been wrong when he said they lacked direction. Their _relationship_ , for lack of a better word, was tumultuous at best. He was constantly pressing, drawing, needing and she was always pulling away. Like a coat that fit neither of them well, too restrictive for him, but threatening to swallow her up. They lacked balance.

 

The thought brought him neither comfort nor sadness. He knew the bond wasn’t part of the plan, knew Snoke was already determining the best way to be rid of it. Who knew what would happen when it was gone, whether Rey would even _want_ to—his thoughts tumbled wildly.

 

_Hux hadn’t been wrong about missing him, either._ _Kriff._ Just the thought that both Rey and Hux would be in the rooms next to his tonight made his entire body hum. He pushed the thoughts away. This wasn’t the time for that.

 

They managed to find their way to the shop without further incident. Unsurprisingly, Rey hated anything he attempted to choose for her, so he ended up waiting outside the shop as she found something. His eyes kept darting back to the alleyway, mind drifting to the sentiment behind those posters. Someone had it in for Hux. A host of people, even.

 

He hoped they’d be off this forsaken planet before too long.

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

 

“Your rooms, Sir, Lady,” beeped the droid as Kylo and Rey returned, entering a sequence of numbers into the access pad next to the door.

 

The doors opened onto a splendid set of rooms, light and airy, with white lacy curtains breezing in from the open balcony doors. Bustling about, the droid set the overhead lights to a steady glow to counter the dying light of the evening and informed them that someone would fetch them in several hours before zipping smoothly out into the hallway.

 

Hux watched from his place on the couch, settled and comfortable, looking for all the world as though he had been there for days, as the other two took in the sight of the room. They seemed even more tense than earlier and he wondered if something had happened on their excursion, from Ren’s continued glances he felt like it might have something to do with him. _Good_. About time he was the one making them uncomfortable, rather than the other way around.

 

The stupid humming press of them was back, feeling like a wet blanket laid over his brain. Sleeping was going to be virtually impossible.

 

“Your room is through there,” said Hux, gesturing to the smaller door. He had, of course, claimed the larger room for himself, a benefit of reaching the suite first. He smirked as he continued, “You two have to share.”

 

Kylo growled at that and Rey looked slightly stricken. _Ah._ So it seemed their relationship was a little more guarded then they would like to admit. Sleeping together but not _sleeping together._ Interesting. Something about that pleased him. He wondered whose doing it was, but the answer came to his mind quickly. _Rey_. Kylo would never insist on such an arrangement, he was too physical, too needy, too all-encompassing. When he wanted a thing he wanted the whole of the thing. Perhaps a remnant of a childhood spent in monk-like severity.

 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as another unspoken conversation took place, ending when Kylo stormed off into the bedroom and closed the door.

 

Rey hesitated a moment, looking as though she might say something, eyes flitting between the door and Hux’s face, before she retreated to the refresher unit. After several seconds he heard the water began to run and a small yelp of dismay. He listened as the water turned off and then on again, and then as the cycle repeated several more times. Off on, off on, off on.

 

Curious, Hux stood to investigate, knocking softly on the door.

 

“Rey? Is everything alright?”

 

The door opened a crack and steam billowed out. He caught a glimpse of bare shoulder, golden and freckled, before Rey’s worried face appeared. “Its not a sonic,” she said, voice fraught. “There’s real water coming out of there.”

 

“And?”

 

“What do I do with it?”

 

He almost laughed, but caught himself when he realized she was in actual distress. Something about the very real fear in her voice made him take pity on her, almost forgiving her for wheedling his secrets out of Phasma.

 

He sighed, “Let me in and I’ll help.”

 

She did so, widening the door so he could step inside. He tried to keep his eyes forward—Kylo was in the next room and who knew how far in each other’s heads they were at the moment—but couldn’t resist himself when she stepped in front of him, reaching out to the panel on the shower.

 

She was all golden skin and wavy hair, wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, looking softer than he had ever seen her. Despite her youth and small statute, Rey had never seemed vulnerable, or weak. She radiated strength. One of her more intoxicating qualities, if he could admit it to himself.

 

But here she stood, looking as lost as he had ever seen her. It took all his strength not to reach out and touch her, to see if she was truly solid under his hands, to draw her into his arms. His mind flitted back to the kiss they had shared, so long ago, that first dinner on-board the ship. Flitted back to the way her waist had felt under his hands only days ago. Flitted back to the expression on her face as she had met his eyes through the filter of the holo.

 

She cleared her throat and he realized he had been staring blankly for far too long.

 

“Um, how do I get it to be hotter?” she asked. “The sonic is all one temp.”

 

Reverie broken, he hurried forward, showing her the controls on the pad. “The number in the corner is the temperature of the water in degrees. Turn the dial up or down to heat or cool it.” He twisted it now, setting the shower to a more comfortable temperature. “You have to use soap in a hydro shower,” he explained, “The dirt won’t evaporate off like in a sonic.”

 

She nodded, small face drawn, clutching the towel close to her chest. “Thank you General—Hux,” she amended.

 

He nodded in return and turned to go, as staying here even a moment longer would almost certainly be a mistake, but her voice stopped him.

 

“You have to tell him, you know,” she said, “That you can feel the Force, that you can sense the bond.”

 

“Excuse me?” he asked, abruptly furious. Who was this small thing, suddenly thinking she could order him around?

 

“He’s worried about you,” she continued, heedless of the anger radiating off him. “He wont say so but he is. And I think it’s important, that you can feel it. That means something.”

 

He froze at her words, frustration and anger bubbling up through him to spill out. “I am so tired of you and _kriffing_ Ren and the _fucking_ Force,” he paused, taking a breath, calming, controlling, pressing down his emotion. His voice was tight as he continued, “I don’t care that he’s worried. I have a part to play in this plan, same as you and he. I am going to lead this Empire, and I cannot do that if Ren is going to prevent me from doing my duty.”

 

He met her eyes and found her unintimidated by his outburst. He almost laughed. She could stare down one of the most powerful men in the galaxy but she couldn’t handle a shower. _Kriff._ It made him furious. There was a moment where he thought about stepping forward, of looming intimidation, of holding her in his arms, crushing her until she cried out. He wanted to see that fear in her eyes again.

But he stepped back, turning to leave. Knowing at his heart that it wouldn’t work, she couldn’t be made to fear him—shouldn’t be. Instead, he simply arched a brow.

 

“Enjoy your shower.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Um, Kylo?” Rey asked, pitching her voice soft as she emerged from the small dressing room that was attached to ~~his~~ their, he reminded himself, bedroom. _Kriff._

 

“Rey?” he replied, looking up from cleaning the disassembled components of his lightsaber. She was dressed in nothing but a robe, wet hair dripping in tendrils over her shoulders. Freshly washed, she shone with color, golden skin and luminous hazel eyes a contrast to dark hair and a pink, pouting mouth. He tried to remember the last time he had seen anything so beautiful.

 

“Why are we here?” she swallowed hard and looked sheepish, an expression he hadn’t seen her wear often, “—I mean, its a formal event, and I—well, we, we’re warriors, aren’t we? And this isn’t exactly what we _do,_ and I thought that you should probably know that I’ve never, well that I…” she trailed off.

 

“That you’ve never been to a party before?” he finished.

 

“Well, yes,” she looked up at him, and a strange sort of emotion rose up in his throat. That seemed to be happening to him a lot recently, he noted with dismay. Rey didn’t talk about her past often, but he knew it had been a harsh one. Hell, he had seen her attempt to navigate the intricacies of using silverware politely, he couldn’t imagine that not knowing how to hobnob at a party would be any more embarrassing for her. “What if I do something wrong?” she finished softly.

 

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured her.

 

She shrugged, but still seemed awkward, smoothing her hands over the fabric of her robe in a repeated, anxious motion. She paced the room, ill at-ease, reaching out to touch objects every so often, obviously uncomfortable with the plush luxury of the room.

 

“Come here,” Kylo gestured, patting the edge of the bed beside him. To his surprise, she obeyed, not objecting when he pulled her onto his lap.

 

She tucked her head into the crook of his neck and he threaded his hands together behind her back, a soft motion. He looked over her shoulder and a bright flash caught his eye, a decorative crystal vase catching the light. In the afterimages of the dazzling flare he once again saw the vision from earlier.

 

Hux, pale as death, laid out along the ground, red hair ashen, face bloodied. Kylo tensed involuntarily. _That’s not going to happen._

 

“He’ll be alright,” she said. Breathing the words into the skin of his neck.

 

There was silence and he realized that she was awaiting some sort of response. “I could care less what happens to Hux,” he lied. “He’s merely the third piece in Snoke’s plan. The triumvirate, Emperor and Knights, ruling the galaxy.”

 

Rey drew in a breath at hearing it all laid out so bluntly, and indeed, it seemed to Kylo that he had never truly said the words out loud before. _Ruling the galaxy._ A heady rush of power surged into him and he tightened his hands on Rey’s waist, fingers sliding on the slippery silk of her robe.

 

“There’s more to him than that, _Master._ ”

 

He had to stop himself from inhaling sharply as the word left her mouth. She used it rarely, and each time she did he could _feel_ her internal struggle. This girl who had lived so much of her life alone, this fiercely independent creature--her willing submission was hesitantly given. Each time she called him Master, even in jest, it was an electrical strike, pulsing through to the heart of him. _Trust_. He focused in on that feeling, trying to block out her other words.

 

She continued on, heedless of his desire to change the subject, “I know how you feel when you look at him, _I feel it too—,”_

 

“Enough,” he hissed, standing up and dumping her unceremoniously onto the bed. “We need a way to break this bond. It makes us weak. The Supreme Leader was right, it’s unbalancing. He won’t stand for it much longer.”

 

Rey’s eyes were shrewd as she looked up at him from the bed. Her wet hair was almost dry now, falling in soft waves around her face, framing her strong jaw and the worried curl of her lips.

 

“I know you don’t want that.”

 

And she was right, he didn’t want to—couldn’t bear to lose this connection, this fierce, unyielding tie that bound them. Couldn’t go back to meeting her eyes and not feeling what she felt.

 

He sighed and rubbed his hand across his face, feeling his anger sag within him, heavy and dense. “Well, what choice do we have?” And he thought that might be the end of it, a sad dull end, one more credit to Snoke’s account, but then a small smile broke out across Rey’s face. A beam of light slicing through heavy clouds.

 

“There may be another way.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hux was on the verge of knocking when Kylo and Rey finally emerged.

 

“The droid came and went ten minutes ago,” he said pointedly.

 

Rey shrugged and gestured with a subtle nod of her head to Kylo, who had already been drawn away to the nearest mirror to check his hair. Hux managed to resist rolling his eyes, he knew Kylo had some insecurity about his looks—though _why_ exactly Hux could never quite discern.

 

_Fuck,_ thought Hux as he took in the sight of the two of them. He’d forgotten how good the Knight could look when he bothered. For someone who was usually more grime and blood than man, he cut a striking figure when he put in the effort.

 

Tall, dressed in robes of black and grey with a collar plate of dull grey metal, Kylo had pulled back his normally unruly hair with braids at the crown of his head. Hux’s fingers itched to undo them, to thread his fingers into that mop of hair and pull, to cup the man’s face in his hands, to— _not the time,_ he reminded himself.

 

Finished checking his reflection, the Knight stood, comfortable in his finery as though he had been born to it, which, Hux supposed, he had. It was a cutting dichotomy to the girl beside him, who, though equally radiant, lacked Ren’s aura of ease. Hux was doing his best not to look directly at her, as though the bright flame of her beauty might blind him, but it was a difficult task, magnetic as she was. They were the sun and the moon, the two of them, unyielding both, and he felt their pull.

 

His eyes flicked down her body, lingering at the point of her closed hand, fisted in the fabric of her dress, the only indicator of her discomfort save the hard set of her shoulders and mouth. The dress itself was magnificent, a slip of watered silk sown with crystals and looking as though it had been dipped in a swirl of stars. Her hair, styled more intricately than usual, was similarly threaded with jewels. Hux wondered suddenly if Kylo had helped her, and that image of them—so tender, soft, so terrible, the knight threading his hands gently through her dark hair—it made him blush to think of it.

 

Her eyes caught then on his own, and he once again saw the fear within them. She looked as though she had stepped from a dream, garbed in the night sky, and yet here she was, _vulnerable._ His breath hitched in his throat and he felt the heat of Kylo’s eyes on him.

 

Desperate for something to say, he covered with a barb. “Well, its good to see you blood covered savages know how to use a comb.”

 

Rey laughed at that. A deep, real laugh and at once he noticed some of the tension slip from her body. He didn’t think he had ever heard her truly laugh before.

 

“Careful Hux,” said Ren, sweeping close to him and smirking, “That was almost a compliment.”

 

Hux frowned, “Do you only have one set of clothes, Ren? You wore that to our last negotiation.”

 

“Some of us need practical things,” the knight, and Hux felt the awkward tension of the room fade back into their normal bickering. “We’ve got more important jobs to do than parade about in our finery.” Ren reached out to run a gloved hand down Hux’s velvety cloak but Hux caught his wrist before he could. There was a crackle of energy between the two men.

 

“If I recall correctly, you rather like my _finery_ —what was it that you said last time, when you were trying to crawl into my bed? Oh, yes— _Keep it on, General, please._ ”

 

Rey snorted, a less than delicate sound, and Ren raised his other hand, clenching it into a fist on instinct.

 

“Oh are you going to hit me now?” sneered Hux, unfazed, “Such a lovely impression that will give our hosts, you bloodthirsty _child_.”

 

Rey coughed slightly, breaking the tension, “I imagine we’re supposed to go somewhere?” And there she was, taking Ren’s hand in her own and pulling the angry man away, the sound of her voice somehow soothing to the both of them.

 

“Indeed,” said Hux, calm as ever, a counterpoint to the still fuming Ren. He extended his arm to Rey, who took it, surprised. He wasn’t sure why he had done it. Her nerves, which had cooled slightly as the men argued—a familiar litany by now, no doubt—seemed to resurge as she gripped Hux’s arm tightly.

 

“Here we go,” he thought he heard her whisper under her breath—but then he suddenly wasn’t sure if she had said it at all, or if he had somehow glimpsed the words within her mind.

 

Ren stood on her other side, flanking her. They faced the door together and something hummed in the air. A strange feeling. A feeling of unease.

 

Time to go to a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My illustration of what their party clothes look like can be found at my tumblr 
> 
> [here](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com/post/142306450467/scene-from-an-upcoming-chapter-of)


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

 

 

The room went silent as their names were announced.

 

“General Brendol Hux II, Master Knight Kylo Ren, Knight Apprentice Rey,” came the mechanical boom of the droid as they each swiped their thumbs over the waiting scanner. Rey was glad to be announced as a knight, even an apprentice one, rather than the Lady title she had been given earlier. _Good_. Let them expect a warrior.

 

“Ah, General,” came a reedy voice, and a thin reptilian man approached them.

 

Hux bowed, courteous, “Baron, allow me to introduce my compatriots.” He gestured to Kylo, “This is Kylo Ren, the head of the Supreme Leader’s Knights, and his apprentice, Rey.”

 

Kylo bowed, and Rey, unsure, did the same, awkwardly inclining her head.

 

“Kylo, Rey, this is our host, Baron Hiram Nauden Orcheza.”

 

“Just Hiram is fine,” said the Baron, winking at them. Rey was intrigued to see a Vilaudian wink for the first time, the nictitating membrane of his eye sliding out and back in a flash. He grasped Hux by the shoulder informally, “Come General, I have people I’d like to introduce you to,” He lowered his hissing voice until it was almost inaudible, “People with the kind of money you’re looking for.”

 

They left, and Kylo and Rey found themselves slightly adrift. Kylo grabbed two glasses of some sort of bubbly concoction and pressed one into her hand. Rey examined the glass in delight, watching as each bubble popped into a different flower-like shape, changing the color of the drink subtly each time.

 

“You’re supposed to drink it,” said Kylo, though not unkindly. She gave him a look.

 

He was soon drawn away, as Hux had been. A woman, small but with impressive curves claimed his arm, drawing him away to discuss, well, something about the Knights of Ren, Rey thought, though she hadn’t been quite able to make it out through the woman’s thickly accented common.

 

She contented herself with leaning back against one of the marble pillars, taking in the hum of the party. The stone was cool against her back, a grounding anchor against what felt like a crashing tide of sights and sounds. She sipped slowly at her drink, enjoying the sensation of the bubbles bursting on her tongue and the thin, floral taste that brought heat to her cheeks.

 

A bright burst of laughter caught her attention and she caught sight of Hux at the center of it. The dark sapphire of his cloak brought out the flame-like red of his hair, lighting him up like a beacon in an already overwhelming room. His eyes caught her own and Rey felt for a moment like there was no one in the room but the two of them. She wondered, not for the first time, about the strange pull she felt toward him. She had thought at first it was merely Ren’s strong emotion, equal parts attraction and loathing, filtering through and coloring her perception of the General, but the more time she spent around the man the more she felt he was drawing her in. Like a star too near a black hole, slowly devoured. Goosebumps prickled onto her skin.

 

A serving droid passed between them and the moment broke. When she looked over again he was engaged in a heated conversation with one of the men in the group, a round-faced Twi’lek in a wrapped headscarf. He was in his element here, thrilling to watch, and yet, she could tell—in the heated glances of those around him, in the whispered mutters of ‘ _Starkiller’_ that seemed to pass by him unheard—that the sentiment surrounding him was not what it had once been. His credit was no longer rising.

 

She was soon approached by a woman and a man, both of the same alien species, but one that Rey didn’t recognize. Surprising, as she had thought her time on Jakku had shown her at least a glimpse of most species. They were tall and willowy, humanoid, but with orange-green skin of a texture that looked almost feathered. The woman, well, or at least she was assuming a woman based on solely on attire, spoke first, in a haunting sing-song of a voice.

 

“Greetings, child.”

 

“Greetings,” she murmured in return. Unsure whether to shake hands, bow, or something else, she settled for inclining her head in a brief nod, as she had seen some others do.

 

“You belong to the large one, yes?” asked the man, his voice the polar opposite of his companion’s, grating, like a squawk. “We have need to speak to him.”

 

“Kylo Ren?” she asked in clarification, confusion etched on her features. The word _belong_ bothered her, but perhaps it was simply a mistranslation?

 

The woman shook her head, no, and made a peeping noise at her companion, almost the trill of birdsong. The man nodded. “Pardons, large is not the word. Power. The man of flame. The eater of—,” he looked to the woman, who made another lilting noise, “—Stars. You and the night one belong to him, yes?”

 

“Excuse me?” asked Rey, attempting to remain polite but feeling an edge creep into her voice. She didn’t belong to _anyone_. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

 

The two humanoids shared a look. Rey got the impression that they were unsure how best to explain. The woman opened and closed her mouth in thought, beak-like lips clicking. “The Song of you, it hums together--,” she began, but stopped, realizing it was perhaps not the best tact, “We must needs speak to the flame.”

 

At least that much was clear. “Alright,” she agreed, “I’ll do my best to introduce you, though I can’t promise anything.” Pleased at least to have a clear mission, Rey threaded her way through the crowd, the bright-feathered couple following slightly behind her.

 

Unsure how best to approach Hux—was she even allowed to? They hadn’t discussed guidelines for public interaction—she hovered at the outside of the circle surrounding him. His posture stiffened when he noticed her and she raised her eyebrows, gesturing with a jerk of her head to the couple behind her. His green glass eyes lit upon them and he nodded.

 

“Gentlemen, ladies,” he began, utterly charming, “Permit me to introduce my—,” he froze, as though he had been about to say something and stopped himself just in time, “—comrade in arms, Rey.” Rey nodded politely as she stepped through the crowd toward him.

 

He took her hand in his own, pulling her to his side. Uncomfortable under the weight of so many eyes she whispered quickly into his ear, “I’m sorry, they asked to speak with you and I wasn’t sure what to do--,”

 

“It’s fine,” he said in return, and his hand curved down to the small of her back, steering her out of the crowd. The touch of his hand, warm and soft across the naked expanse of her back felt like a whip-crack of electricity. With the soft buzz of alcohol coating her mind, she couldn't help but wonder about those hands--how they would feel elsewhere. She could feel Kylo’s attention crystallize on them from across the room. Rey wondered how they had felt on Kylo, the softness of them smoothing over the Knight's rough scars.

 

As though he could feel the other man's attention as well, Hux’s hand slipped off her back. As soon as he had broken free of the crowd the two bird people surged toward him. Their squawking voices overwhelmed Rey, but Hux seemed to handle the noise with no problem.

 

Seeing them happily occupied, Rey slipped away. She slid back through the mess of people, hoping to return to her quieter spot near the pillar. Something about the party was making her uneasy. The set of certain shoulders, the tenseness in the room, the muttered whispers, silenced whenever she drew too close to them. Her head began to swim under the pressure of it and she felt dizzy.

 

Someone jostled her elbow and she whirled, splashing no small portion of her glass onto the floor and coming face to face with a man. He was about her height; dark haired, and dressed in a military uniform, with a red sash slicing diagonally across his chest. His most distinctive feature, however, was the intricate tattoo that sat in the center of his forehead, at the heart of which sat a stylized eye.

 

“So sorry about that,” he smiled warmly, “Let me fetch you another.” He snapped his fingers and a droid appeared. Moving before Rey had a chance to protest he whisked her glass from her hand and pressed another in its place.

 

“Oh, that’s not necessary—well, thank you,” said Rey, and took a polite sip.

 

The man looked her over with an appraising eye. Rey did her best not to stare at his forehead, instead meeting his eyes coolly.

 

He snapped his fingers suddenly, “Ren’s apprentice, that’s who you are.”

 

Rey did not enjoy the way he was eyeing her. There was something cold about him, a facet of his smile that didn’t meet his eyes. It gave her a strange, chilled feeling—and that tattoo, she felt like she had seen it somewhere, just recently.

 

“I’m sorry, have we met?” she asked, unsure whether to bow or shake hands. He solved her dilemma by extending his hand, though when she reached out to shake it he instead turned it over and pressed his lips to her palm. Her skin crawled.

 

“Aravis Lai,” he introduced himself, “Commander of the First Order outpost here on Dathomir.”

 

“Rey,” she said, though she had no wish to give this man her name. For the first time she wished she had a last name, or a title, anything to forestall hearing her name on this man’s tongue.

 

He smiled, “Rey. I’ve heard of you. Only rumors though, I’d hope.”

 

Her smile was tight on her face, “I’m sure I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about.” She was doing her best to channel the voice that Hux used with Kylo when he was at his most infuriating—short and clipped, polite, yet cold. Simultaneously, she tried to reach out through the Force and catch Kylo’s attention. It was like trying to slam her body through a steel wall. A moment of choked panic rose in her and she realized that something was _wrong_ , she couldn’t feel the bond, couldn’t feel Kylo.

 

The man in front of her bared his teeth. She supposed it could be called a smile, but it somehow wasn’t. He gripped her wrist. “No need to worry, darling.”

 

A quick twist of her hand and she was free of his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

 

“So hostile.” His head tilted. “Oh, yes, you’ll do nicely.”

 

“ _What_ do you want?” asked Rey, biting out the words between gritted teeth. _So much for gentility._ She looked to see whether anyone had noticed the scene they were making, but it seemed, somehow, that everyone was facing away, forming a sort of half moon around them as they spoke.

 

“Oh, no, nothing. For now,” he smiled that strange, dead smile again. “Simply wanted to get a look at you, introduce myself. You know, you, and your Master even, should really expand your acquaintance within the First Order, make some new friends. Wouldn’t want to cast your lot in with the _wrong people_.”

 

Something about the way he said the words made her pause. _Hux._ He meant Hux. She suddenly remembered where she had seen that eye, scrawled over the General’s face in blood.

 

Her own blood felt suddenly hot in her veins and her head swam. She tried again to reach the Force and found that she couldn’t. Truly panicked now, she pushed harder, gasping in pain and clutching her head as a headache bloomed there.

 

Aravis reached out and tapped her glass, “Ysalamiri blood. Don’t worry, it’ll only last a few minutes. Couldn’t have you getting a bad feeling about this.”

 

He stepped backwards, slipping into the crowd with ease as it seemed to part for him, Rey pushed forward, trying to follow him but found her way blocked at every turn.

 

That’s when the bomb went off.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter this week!
> 
> Ive got finals coming up so updates might be slow for a little while, but I promise I'm still chugging along :)
> 
> My friend floatin-on-bespin drew some absolutely gorgeous art of Kylo and Rey in their party clothes, y'all should check it out [here](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com/post/142626264132/floatin-on-bespin-cuz-i-cant-stop-thinkin-bout/)
> 
> Comments welcome as always!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm in the midst of finals, so the next one might take a smidge longer than usual as well!
> 
> That also means I read through it fewer times than I usually do, so please forgive any typos!
> 
> in the meantime, come talk to me on [tumblr](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com)

* * *

 

 

Kylo still wasn’t sure how Rey had managed to get them all back to the ship and off the planet. Hazy flashes of memory were returning to him. A cadre of blaster bolts, hanging frozen in the air and whining— _shrieking_ —with an awful piercing hum. _How had she done that?_ He hadn’t taught her that yet. His ears pulsed, deafened still by the noise of the blasts.

 

He remembered the weight of Hux’s body in his arms and his stomach churned. He had fought, that he knew, as the troopers pulled the General’s limp form from him. How long had it been? Were they back on the Finalizer? _How had they gotten here so fast?_

 

He opened his eyes, blinking hard in the harsh light.

 

“He’s awake,” he heard a mechanical voice say, as he struggled to sit up. He couldn’t see very well, there was a piece of gauze wrapped about his head partially obstructing his vision, furthermore, there was an unfamiliar mask over his face. Tight, claustrophobic. He reached up to rip it off but cold metal clamped down over his hand. “Oxygen sir, to counteract the smoke inhalation,” came the voice of the medi-droid again.

 

“Rey,” he rasped. A question.

 

“She is here, sir.” The droid gestured to a chair that had been placed near the end of his bed and indeed, there was Rey. Curled up in the seat, asleep. Grimy from smoke, fine dress drenched in dried blood, her feet had been wrapped in some sort of gauze and a thin slice of a cut ran horizontally across both her cheeks, but she appeared otherwise unharmed. He reached out through the bond and was relieved to feel her. There had been a moment, he thought, or perhaps he was simply imagining it, a moment before the blast when he had reached out and found _nothing._

 

“Hux?” he rasped again.

 

“He is in the operating theater, sir,” replied the droid. “He was very badly injured.”

 

“Will he live?”

 

“That looks to be the case, sir. I do not know what type of medical attention you and Apprentice Rey were able to give him but you did an excellent job of stemming the blood.”

 

A flash of memory hits him. His hands, slippery with blood as he held them over Hux. Rey, flying and shouting simultaneously, the two of them channeling power together through his fingers. Wounds beginning to knit closed beneath his hands. _This was the light side_ , he thought as it pooled through him. _It had been so long since he had felt its touch._

 

“Rey,” he whispered, reaching out to prod her through the Force. She woke with a start, nearly falling off the chair. She winced as her bandaged feet touched the ground. “Rey, _what happened?_ ”

 

“A bomb,” she croaked, voice as hoarse as his own thanks to the smoke, “More than one maybe, thermal detonators. More men than I could count.” She looked down at her hands, tracing her fingers over a cut and wincing. “They wanted Hux. _Revenge for Starkiller_ , they kept shouting. I—I don’t know if they were angrier about the Hosnian system or about the men and women who were left behind on the base when it was destroyed, but they blame Hux for both.” Her hands clenched in her lap. “I should have been faster. I should have realized what was happening.”

 

Another piece of memory falls into place. A man, leading them. The eye in the center of his forehead aglow in the light of the blaster bolts, shouting orders. Rey, crouched low over Hux, doing her best to pull him, already bleeding, up into her arms as Kylo covered them, trying desperately to call his lightsaber with the Force but it was far, too far. Moving as one, he and Rey changed positions so that he could carry the General, pulling the thin man easily into his arms.

 

And then they had run. Dodging through the frantic movement of the guests that hadn’t been in on the ambush and doing their best to avoid those who had been. They had run for their lives.

 

“Is he going to live?” asked Rey.

 

“Likely,” he rasped back to her. “Your feet?”

 

She swung one up into her lap to poke at it, fingers testing beneath the gauze. She winced. “The bacta seems to be working.”

 

A cough wracked his chest and she stood, softly, grimacing, to hobble over to his side. She pressed her hand softly into his. “It was gone for a moment,” she whispered, and he knew immediately what she meant. “That man, Aravis. He did _something_. Something with blood. I couldn’t feel you, couldn’t feel the Force, couldn’t feel _anything._ ”

 

“I know,” he shivered. He knew for certain then that this lie he had been telling himself, this lie that the bond was only temporary, that he could break it whenever he wanted to, whenever the Supreme Leader needed him to, that lie could never come to pass. Another thought, so blinding it was painful to think of it, crossed his mind. “We _healed_ him, Rey.” His voice nearly broke at the revelation of it.

 

“Of course we did,” said Rey, brow furrowed. “We had to.”  


“No, you don’t--,” his voice cracked, ashamed, “I _can’t_ _heal_ , even—before, I wasn’t able to—,” she squeezed his hand, silencing him.

 

“I don’t think this is the place to discuss it,” she said, with a sudden guarded air. He followed her gaze to the surveillance camera in the corner of the room. Unsure who she was concerned about, he nonetheless agreed that caution was never unwarranted.

 

The medi-droid whirred as it received a transmission. “The operation is complete. General Hux is being taken to recovery room 8.”

 

Kylo shot up immediately, aching where the wires and tubes bit into his skin, aching where his bones felt like they had been broken and grown anew. He caught a glimpse of Rey’s face—that eager, scared, and horribly _tender_ expression he was _sure_ mirrored his own. There were many things they needed to discuss, he thought to himself as he watched her attempt to smooth her countenance. _They had to see him_. There was an urgency to the thought, heated in its intensity.

 

It was several long moments—the removal of intravenous drips, the wrapping of wounds, the finding of clothes—before they could hobble, the two of them, from the room. Make their way slowly down the corridor, tender and stinging, to room 8.

 

There was a time, he knew, when he would have been ashamed to walk the corridor like this. Blue-bruised and broken. But something had changed in the past weeks. Something in him had died and risen again in the ashes, something like his pride. He felt different. All raw skin and pink, fresh wounds. Broken and reknitted. A strange feeling, but not wholly unpleasant.

 

The door slid open as they approached, a medi-tech exiting, peeling bloodied gloves from her hands. Her eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight of them. The enmity between Hux and Ren was legend, the rumors of their trysts less so, but sure to be rekindled now. Why else might the Knight be visiting his rival? Why else would the General, broken and bloody, have had to be pulled bodily from the crush of his arms? Who had known the Knight even had tears to shed?

 

Kylo merely glared at the tech, hoping his expression would illustrate his meaning—mind your business—as Rey tugged him by the arm into the recovery room.

 

The sight of Hux’s body, pale and still, made Kylo’s stomach ache. He felt Rey tense beside him, fierce and shining.

 

There was stillness as three chests rose and fell in time. The only sound the quiet hiss of breathing as they waited. Moments passed.

 

The General’s eyes began to flutter, gold-red lashes blinking slowly open. Confusion curled his brow at the sight of them, Master and Apprentice, unable to keep their looks of worry contained.

 

“W—what happened?” he rasped, throat as damaged as the rest of them.

 

Before they could answer Lieutenant Mitaka marched into the room, snapping off a quick salute.

 

“The Supreme Leader requests your presence.”

 

Hux struggled to rise at the news. “Get the droid then, I will need assistance,” his voice was weak, faltering.

 

The officer looked nervous as he continued, “The Supreme Leader has asked to see the Knights only, sir.”

 

Numbed by pain and medication, Hux was unable to keep the flash of surprise and fear off his normally impassive face. Kylo found himself taking an involuntary step forward before he remembered his decorum—Rey had no such hesitation, moving forward to grasp Hux’s hand tightly in her own.

 

The General looked down at the point of contact, green-glass eyes wide. There was a feeling of tension rising _up up up_ until it snapped, and both pulled their hands away as though burned.

 

Kylo grasped Rey’s shoulder tightly. “Come,” he said, “It won’t do to keep him waiting.”

 

She nodded, pausing for a moment, mouth pursed, as though she wished to say something to Hux. But she thought better of it, turning to follow Kylo out the door.

 

* * *

 

The hologram hall was dark, as always. The looming half-transparent figure at the end familiar, yet frightening.

 

“Come,” boomed the voice, at once sonorous and rasping. “Come and explain yourselves. Explain how you managed to botch one of the most useful alliances--an alliance the First Order has been hungry for--in a matter of hours.”

 

Rey stepped hesitantly, unsure, trailing several steps behind Kylo who strode confidently despite his pain to kneel at his Master’s feet.

 

“Fools, the both of you.” A bright wave of fear and pain swept through them both, crushing them until they crumpled hard against the ground, thrown onto hands and knees.

 

Kylo spoke, words gritted, newly healed body weak. “Forgive us, Master, but the loss of this alliance was—unavoidable. We were attacked, forced to flee.”

 

“Indeed,” came Snoke’s voice, mocking and cold. “My greatest Knight and his hand-picked apprentice, putting themselves in harms way. And for _what_?”

 

Rey opened her mouth instinctively to protest, but felt a sharp pull from Kylo’s mind. _Quiet._ She’d only been before the Supreme Leader once before, and it had nearly broken her, the sharp shearing press of him as he took her mind, sifting through her memories with destructive ease. Searching, always searching, but for what she didn’t know.

 

Lost in thought she was unprepared for the strike of pain. She and Kylo writhed together, mirror images, splayed out on the ground, the full force of the Supreme Leader’s displeasure coursing through them.

 

“Show me,” he said, reaching out towards Rey with intangible hands and she flinched, heaving her chest off the floor, swinging her head back to meet his eyes as tears streamed from her own at the pain of it. “Show me you still have worth, the both of you. Miserable beasts.”

 

And then the searing pain of possession, the uncomfortable pressing fullness of this man, this _creature_ in her mind. So different than the bond she shared with Kylo, the back and forth pull of it spread between them. No. This was like a lightsaber through the snow, each destructive slash raising steam in a searing wall through her mind.

 

“A-ah,” she cried, unable to help herself as the words tugged themselves out through her lips. She could see Kylo tense beside her—every muscle screaming _movement_ as he forced himself still. Without meaning to, she pushed back against the pain, leaning, feeling, seeking relief until suddenly— _peace._ A cool feeling like sand-burned feet stepping into a pool of water.

 

Unfamiliar faces, events, locations flew by in an endless stream. The weight of them was crushing, like trying to hold herself upright in a desert storm, wind whipping, sand stinging, eyes burning. _There._ A face she knew. The shock of it threw her back into her body, absence unnoticed by the creature who still ravaged her thoughts.

 

And then he slid, snake-like from her mind, retreating back into his own body. She collapsed again, nose throbbing where it pressed against the cold duracrete floor. Body shaking with sobs.

 

Kylo twitched toward her and she knew, could feel that he wanted to move toward her, to hold her, but it was his turn now. His turn to arch and writhe under his Master’s touch, mind flayed open, raw and ripe for the taking. Screams and sobs mingled until at last there was silence.

 

When they woke his image was gone, but the pain lingered.

  

* * *

 

“Kylo, come on. We need to make sure its not already too late.” Rey was moving quickly now as they left the hologram hall, as quickly as her damaged feet would allow, pacing towards the medi-bay with a kind of frantic dedication.

 

“ _Rey._ You don’t have any proof Snoke wants him dead. As barbaric as we might seem, in the First Order not every demotion comes paired with an execution.” His longer strides let him keep up with her easily. “The Supreme Leader is wise, if his plan is changing I imagine he has a reason.” He reached out to grab her elbow, to make her wait, stop, explain, but she pulled out of his grip.

 

“How can you say that after what he just did to you?” Her face scrunched with fury. “After the way he hurt you and tossed you away—like a broken—like a _possession.”_

 

Kylo stopped short at that, equally furious. “We _are_ his possessions. All of us. You, me, Hux. We live because he allows us to live.”

 

“ _Kriff,_ ” she said, mouth working in awe. “You truly believe that don’t you?”

 

“What else is there to believe?”

 

She turned away, angry, as she continued her hobble-trot down the hallway. “Kylo, if I thought for one moment that you were serious about letting someone kill the man you love—“

 

“Love?” he choked out, flush coloring his face. “I don’t _love_ Hux—I barely manage to—to love _you_.” The words tumbled from his mouth, a startling admission.

 

“That’s different,” she snapped back quickly, ignoring the blush that had risen to her cheeks at his words. “This—this bond, this feeling, whatever this is between us, that’s destiny. Loving Hux, that’s choice.”

 

“ _I don’t love him,”_  repeated Kylo, with more intensity this time, energy crackling in his dark eyes.

 

That made her pause. Whirling she turned to face him, and he was taken aback by the fury in her face, contorted as she spoke. “Don’t you understand by now that you can’t lie to me? _I feel what you feel_.”

 

Realizing this was perhaps not the time to argue about it, he pushed past her, continuing in their journey toward the medi-bay. “You still don’t have any proof,” he spat, petulant.

 

“That man,” snapped Rey right back, “The one from the party. The one that tried to kill us—tried to kill _him._ I saw his face in Snoke’s mind. He might not have planned it, but he _knew_.”

 

Kylo stopped dead at that. “You _what?_ You looked into the Supreme Leader’s mind? How?”

 

She shrugged, almost sheepish, “When someone’s in my head—I can’t help it—its as though I’m in theirs as well—I wasn’t _trying_.”

 

“You do seem to have a knack for that,” he admitted. “Well what do you suggest we do about it?” he continued, quietly, as they moved into a crowded corridor.

 

_Just follow my lead._ She replied in his head, never words so much as it was a feeling. _Trust me._ He did, he realized, and he wondered when that had happened.

 

The doors of the medi-bay slid open and there was Hux. Pale and delirious, but seemingly recovering. He’d been heavily drugged, eyes rolling wildly as he did his best to focus on them. He panted, tongue heavy, trying to form words and failing, a lolling “R—R—R,” noise all he could manage to choke out. _Ren?_ _Or Rey?_

 

“Who gave you orders to drug him?” asked Kylo, disturbed. The sight of Hux, upright, controlled, impassive Hux, reduced to a writhing mess of sweat and tears and pain made Kylo's stomach heave. 

 

The droid clicked its head sideways, _tick-whir, tick-whir_ , as it performed a query search. “The ranking commander.”

 

Kylo frowned at that. “ _I_ am the ranking commander when Hux is incapacitated.”

 

The droid clicked again, “Database records indicate General Lai has command of the Finalizer.”

 

Rey tensed at his name. A flashback of explosions, screaming, blood, _so much blood_ , washed over her. She did her best to push it down as the cuts on her cheeks burned.

 

She turned to the droid. “Whatever you’ve done to him, undo it. Now.” Her eyes touched on Kylo’s briefly and he saw the fear in her, bright and burning. “We need him lucid.”

 

“We can disconnect the drip but he wont regain his full faculties for at least 8 hours,” came the mechanical voice of the droid.

 

“Fine. Do it,” said Rey, “And move the General to Master Ren’s quarters.”

 

The droid’s head clicked several times as it processed the order. “Denied,” it blared, a sharp warning note. “Orders are that Mr. Hux not be moved.” Neither of them missed the lack of title.

 

“Override code 82334,” said Kylo. “Move immediately.”

 

“Override code suspended,” blared the droid. “New override codes to be issued by General Lai.”

 

“ _Enough,_ ” growled Kylo, furious now. His lightsaber bloomed in his hand before he could even think, the pulsing heat of the blade relieving his feelings. He slashed out in anger, neatly severing the droid’s head from its body. He swung several more times, unnecessary but therapeutic, until the droid was nothing more than a molten heap of parts, not even worthy of scrap.

 

Deactivating his saber he turned to Rey. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” He reached over the bed to pull the General, well, former General now, into his arms, relishing the feel of the man’s body against his own. _Safe._

 

Rey nodded, face drawn. “I hope I do too.”

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY for the delay!
> 
> Life has been super busy, but this story is not forgotten, it might just take a little longer between chapters. I have lots of ideas and no time to write them down.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

 

“Bed,” Rey sighed softly, relieved, as they crashed sloppily into the room.

 

Kylo moved to the bed, gently settling the General atop the rumpled sheets. He was halfway through the motion before he paused—realizing suddenly that obeying her orders was quickly becoming second nature to him. _Dangerous._

 

Hux’s head lolled against the silk-smooth sheets. His eyes were bright with tears, unfocused, trying hard to catch at either Rey’s or Ren’s. Both avoided looking at him for too long. The sight of Hux—so well composed, so in-control, a man of vice-grip steel reduced to a crying, shuddering mess was somehow more than either could bear.

 

There was a moment’s pause before Rey sat down beside Hux, running her hands gently over his face and neck, pressing nimble fingers into his throat, behind his ears, into the crooks of his arms.

 

“What are you doing?” asked Kylo, and the sound of his voice set Hux to thrashing, reaching out toward him. _R—r—r—_

 

Rey made a disgruntled face, shifting so she could lay half-atop Hux, pinning his arms until he stilled again. Her voice was soft, measured, when she spoke, “I’m checking to see whether he’s been poisoned, or just drugged.”

 

Hux thrashed again at the sound of her voice, gentle as it was, and Kylo laid himself along the man’s legs, using his weight to hold him.

 

“And you know how to do that?”

 

Rey laughed, an ugly, snorting sound. “You think no one’s ever given little desert rats poisoned food before?” She grimaced, “You learn fast.” Seemingly satisfied, she withdrew from Hux’s side, shoulders slumped. “He’ll be alright, I think. Just anesthetized.”

 

“You really think this will work?” he asked, the calm in his voice a structured fight against the anxious thud of his heart in his ears.

 

“We don’t really have a lot of options.”

 

Kylo shifted, uncomfortable, wary, as he stared down at Hux. His hand drifted out to press along the harsh line of the other man’s jaw. Hux turned his face into Kylo’s palm—a gentle motion, unlike him.

 

The knight flinched, startled, as his apprentice touched his shoulder. “We need to start.”

 

Kylo shook his head, “ _Rey_. How can you be so sure this will work? There’s no history of it, there are barely any recorded instances of a two person bond. And with someone who’s not Force sensitive? We might break—we might _kill_ him.”

 

Rey’s back stiffened at his words and he resisted the urge to stroke a hand down her spine. She wouldn’t appreciate the touch—she didn't, often, not unless they were more pleasurably occupied. She found his touch stifling, possessive--wild thing that she was, unwilling to be claimed. He could feel it in her, now, the urge to run. Just as he could feel the secret she was holding, hidden from view, dark and deep within the well of her mind. His memory flashed back to Hux’s words on the ship to Dathomir; _Oh, so she hasn’t told you?_

 

“—You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

 

The guilty look in her eyes told him he was right, that Hux had been right. He moved suddenly, looming over her, pulling her forward only to press her firmly against the wall, hands gripping her shoulders tightly. He imagined Rey and Hux discussing him, dissecting his flaws, laughing at him. Hot, boiling rage uncoiled in his belly. “Secrets were never part of our deal. As one knows so must the other. Teacher and student.”

 

Rey’s face bore neither fear nor triumph at his accusation. Her brow raised in calculation as she felt him try to press against her mind, searching out whatever secret she held. She was too good now; she had learned too well.

 

"Our  _deal?_ " her tone was mocking, "Our  _deal_ changed the moment you brought me on board. I came here to learn. You told me that to make myself worth teaching I'd have to be useful to you--I've done that," she gestured at Hux, "The General's allegiance is here. Take it, or don't." Her voice was hard.

 

His fist met the wall beside her head, ticking cracks into the paneling. Frustration fueling his anger. Rey didn’t flinch, merely narrowed her eyes at his display of temper. She waited a full minute before speaking.

 

“He's Force-sensitive,” she said finally, and the set of her shoulders told him she was loath to tell him, even now. The man on the bed let out a noise, a shuddering half-cry, as though he knew they were speaking of him. "His chances are better than you think."

 

“ _What?”_

 

“He’s Force-sensitive,” she repeated, hands flat on his chest as she pushed him back, away from her. “He can sense it, tell when its being used on him, resist its influence--,”

 

“And he told you this?” He didn’t try to hide the jealousy in his voice. When he’d considered _combining_ his two—interests, he’d never thought that they might find each other’s company more interesting than his own. _Selfish, Kylo._

 

“He confirmed it,” she said, not answering his unspoken questions— _when, how?_

“ _Why didn’t you tell me?_ ” he growled, frustrated again. _Why didn't you trust me?_

 

“You know why,” she replied, angry again in turn. “ _Snoke._ I thought you would tell your _Master_ \--,” she spat the word, “—and he would end this plan before it ever began. He would kill Hux for keeping it from him.” She hung her head slightly, embarrassed for the first time. “I—I didn’t know what losing him would do to you.”

 

Rage boiled up within him at her admission, hot and choking. He didn’t know which infuriated him more, the fact that she assumed he’d run immediately to his Master’s side or the fact that he couldn’t be sure he _wouldn’t have._

 

He felt suddenly dizzy, the weight of his wounds catching up to him like a searing crush on his already tired body. Rey’s earlier words echoed in his mind, growing steadily louder as they met the rhythm of his pulse as it thudded in his ears. _The man you love. The man you love. The man you love._

 

“ _A—argh,_ ” he cried finally, clutching at his head, hands trapped against his ears as though he could stem the words unspoken. _Love—love—love._ The word wormed its way painfully against his brain, pulling forth harsh, bleeding memories. _Love is weakness._ His Master’s voice, thunder-cracking the words through the air. The shattering pain that followed.

 

Rey’s hands were cool as she cradled his face. “I know,” she whispered, breath fluttering hot against his cheek. “It’s alright, I know. You don’t have to say it.”

 

Her touch was an anchor, dispelling the sickly specter of Snoke’s hands, reaching, grabbing, pulling. He groped out, blindly, for Hux’s hand, trapping it under his own.

 

“It’s alright,” she said again, voice a steady throb as she threaded her fingers into his hair, half-fallen from its earlier style. “He knows.”

 

He nodded, bent low over Hux’s hand. He felt bare, broken, open. More lonely than ever despite the two people beside him.

 

“You have to do it,” she said, after a moment, and she was right to speak, to push--who knew how long they had. “You know him best. I’ll be in your head, and you’ll be in his—”

 

Kylo nodded again. He understood what she was trying—it should work, he thought, _theoretically_. But who knew for certain? And it was dangerous— _foolish even_ , to gamble with so high a price _._ Hux could be lost entirely, mind shattered, trapped forever in the prison of his own body.

 

Rey’s hand against his shoulder was a grounding wire—the anxious electricity of his body seeping out through her, sharp and shocking. He shook out his hands, as though shaking the vestiges of nerves from his body. He took a deep breath, and began.

 

It was easy. _So easy._ It had never been this easy, the times he had tried before—but now, he was pulled in, engulfed, like stretching his body out across the top of a lake and sinking into it. He could feel Rey at his shoulder, disappearing swiftly into his own mind, her presence at once familiar and strange.

 

He remembered the first time he’d tried to read Hux, the swift glare like the sudden slam of a door. He couldn’t stop Kylo, but he’d _known_ , and back then that had been enough to prevent the Knight from further attempts. He’d been unsure in his own power then. He’d tried again, years later, body wrapped around Hux and achingly, desperately curious to see what it must look like, to feel Hux feeling him. The minute his mind had brushed the General’s own Hux had frozen—stilled, _furious_. His hand had swung out of nowhere and before Kylo had even realized what was happening, the General had laid a stinging blow across the Knight’s cheek, so hard stars had blossomed behind his eyes—when they finally faded Hux was gone. Kylo had never tried it again.

 

And yet, here he was, worming his way into the mind of a man who hated it, would hate him for doing it—and for _what_? There was no way of knowing whether this little move would swing Hux back into Snoke’s favor—it was equally likely to be the nail in his coffin. His Master’s motives were, as ever, a mystery. At least to him.

 

The feeling of rain on his face forced him to hone in on his surroundings. He was somewhere, a memory?—it was a courtyard, the high walls of a great house surrounding it, isolated. The skies were grey, the walls grey, even the grass poking up between the paving stones was a dull, washed out grey. The only color he could see was Rey, beside him, a gold-edged specter—herself, but somehow infinitely more than herself. He looked down at his own hands, afraid of what he might find. They glowed with a pearly, silver light, but were otherwise the same as they’d ever been, the same star-sprinkle of dark moles dotting each one. Relieved, his mind wandered back to the drab courtyard, the sodden greys of it blurred around the edges.

 

A bright flash of red caught his attention. A young boy, maybe ten, his pale face even more wan in the misty twilight. _Hux._

 

“Who are you? You don’t belong here.” His voice was sharp, imperious, used to giving orders even at so young an age.

 

He could see them, it seemed, so perhaps this was more than just a memory. He glanced back at Rey, who shrugged, equally unsure.

 

“We’re here to find Hux,” he ventured, voice echoing loudly over the paving stones. The world felt stretched thin here, a mere leafy cover hiding some deeper, darker beast.

 

“ _I’m_ Hux,” said the boy. The scowl tracking out along his face was so familiar that Kylo nearly smiled.

 

“I can see that,” said Kylo, and the boy seemed momentarily placated, “--but you’re not the Hux we need.”

 

Hux’s face darkened. “He doesn’t want to see you.”

 

Something about that tone was intimately familiar to him. “ _Liar._ ”

 

Rey stiffened at his words, but Kylo knew, somehow, that this was the correct tact to take. Hux was testing him. He was always testing him, pushing hard when he could, retreating when it suited him. A chessboard mastermind, ever three steps ahead of his opponents—well, at least he had been _…_ until…until he _hadn’t known_. Hadn’t seen the attack coming, hadn't predicted his own demotion, the fear in his eyes at Snoke’s failure to summon him had been real, blindingly, achingly real. The thought terrified Kylo, more than any fight, more than any half-understood Force ritual. As loath as he was to admit it, some part of him relied on Hux, on him knowing what the next step should be. In that strange twilight world, torn between light and dark, Hux had always been a constant—a pillar of cold hatred, an anchor in the storm.

 

Kylo swayed slightly, and he felt Rey grip his hand. _Trust._ That was what was important here. Here in this strange dreary world of Hux’s mind.

 

The boy’s lip curled. A pale imitation of the older Hux’s cutting sneer, “ _What_ did you call me?”

 

Kylo merely smiled. “I called you a _liar_. I know Hux is here and I know he’s _you_. Come out Bren.” He paused. “Or are you scared to see me here?”

 

The boy’s shoulders shook, blurring as his edges smeared, growing, changing. Fifteen, then twenty, the planes of his face harsher as he skipped through time. He toppled forward. Rey and Ren reacted simultaneously, surging forward to catch him in their arms.

 

“ _Bren_ ,” breathed Kylo, face pressed against Hux’s head, breath fluttering in his hair.

 

Hux righted himself, pulling sharply out of their arms. He winced at the movement, clutching his side—even in the dream blood wept there, swift and scarlet, the tang of copper filling the air. Dripping rubies, a bright smear of color against the drab grey.

 

Hux spoke and his voice cracked, shuddered. “Why are you here?”

 

“You have to come back with us,” said Rey.

 

“No,” said Hux, stepping backwards. Fear was painted bright on his face. “No—I can feel it, even here. _I don’t want to go back._ ”

 

“Bren,” said Kylo, stepping forward, stretching out a hand to catch at his sleeve, which Hux immediately pulled out of reach. “Bren it’s going to be okay—we have a plan.”

 

“I don’t _care_ ,” said Hux, hissing out the words through clenched teeth. His eyes darted back and forth, a caged animal, looking for any way to run. Kylo stepped forward again and Hux darted back, keeping an even distance between them—he kept his hands pressed tight to his side, gloves slippery with blood.

 

Kylo wanted nothing more than to grab him, pull him back with them, overpower him. But that was exactly the wrong way to handle it—Hux had to come back willingly, to immerse himself as deeply in their minds as they were in his, the only way to knit them together, to bind them tightly enough. But force—force wouldn’t do it. Hux couldn’t be forced into anything, never could. Kylo ceased his motion, stilling—unsure of how to proceed.

 

Hux paced before them, angry, agitated. The pain and fear evident on his face, bubbling up and over into pure rage. He opened his mouth to speak—yell by the look of it, when Rey’s voice broke through the silence, echoing softly among the stones.

 

“ _Bren,_ ” she whispered, and it was the first time she had said his name. The first time it had fallen sweetly from her lips, eyes wide as she looked at him. “Bren, we need you.”

 

Kylo could feel something within Hux crack at the admission. His outline blurred again, flickering once, twice. Crumpling to the ground, curling in on himself, pain causing him to cry out. Kylo practically leapt forward, thudding to his knees.

 

Hux’s face was hot in Kylo’s hands, feverish as he pushed back the strands of fox-gold hair that had fallen into the other man’s eyes. He could see tears glittering at the corners of Hux’s eyes, bright and sharp. Rey huddled at his shoulder, her body a partial shield from the never-ending drizzle.

 

“We’re here,” said Kylo, “Its alright, we’re here.”

 

Rey reached out and Hux’s hands unclenched, grasping hot and desperate toward hers, clutching at her. A wellspring of jealousy rose up in Kylo at the sight and he pushed it down. _All three._ For this to work it had to be all three of them.

 

“It’s time to go.” Rey’s voice was soft as she stood, pulling Hux up with her. He winced at the movement, bending double to hold his side. Rey’s hand reached out to catch Kylo’s pulling him over to press his long pale fingers against Hux’s wound. “I think we have to heal him first.”

 

Blood slicked out over his fingers. Too much blood. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“ _I_ _can’t_.”

 

“You did,” gasped Hux. “You did it before.”

 

Kylo turned to Rey. Unable to keep the quiver from his voice. “Help me.”

 

She nodded, placing her hand over his own, small where his was large.

 

A strange sensation pulled through him, jagged like the cut of a knife across his palm. He looked down to see the ruby-bright ichor of Hux’s wound winding up his arms, staining him red. Pain rose in Kylo’s chest, threatening to tear him in two. A lightning crack headache burst in the forefront of his mind. The sky overhead roiled, clouds twisting and moving at unnatural speeds.

 

They screamed in unison, three voices mingling in the silence. 

 

He couldn’t remember much after that, nothing but the sunburst bright spear of Hux’s consciousness as it threaded through his own. _Falling. Falling. Falling._

  
And then, darkness.

 

* * *

 

Hux’s mind snapped awake with a _twang_. He was hot. Unbearably hot. And _aching_ all over, the sweet relief of the medication evidently wearing thin. _Kriff._ He felt like he’d seen the wrong end of a rathtar.

 

His eyes traced the familiar outlines of the room, stopping short when they reached the chest of drawers. Instead of his usual tray—key chips, ID, code cylinders—there was a mess of black robes and the hilt of a lightsaber. Oh. _Oh._ _Not_ his bedroom, then.

 

He took stock of his situation. No longer in the medi-bay—strange, but acceptable. Waking up in Ren’s room—unusual, but not impossible, he supposed. _Kriff._ Had he been drunk? No. He felt worse than that. Heavy pressure on his chest, and a sharp, shooting pain in his side. He was almost afraid to look down. Afraid that the pressure was something horrible.

 

He looked anyway, shifting the blanket with one arm. Oh. It was Kylo. His heavy shoulder draped across Hux’s torso, face pressed sloppily into the sheets. Horrible in his own way, Hux supposed, but could be worse. He tried to move his other arm to push the man off of him and found he couldn’t. Paralyzed? No. _No._ Simply pinned. A small, sleep-worn woman lay atop it. Rey. _Stars_. What in the galaxy had happened last night?

 

He wiggled his arm and she shifted, the blanket falling off her—thankfully, clothed—shoulder. Thankfully? He asked himself, thoughts hazy as she stretched her head back, exposing a length of golden neck. Yes. _Thankfully_ , he reminded himself firmly.

 

A blaze of light burst in his mind as she opened her eyes.

 

“Aa—ugh,” he cried at the pain and surprise of it. “ _Ow_.”

Kylo sat bolt upright, clutching at his forehead. The motion tangled the sheets along his chest, snaring him and pulling him sideways so he fell against Hux, who shoved him away roughly.

 

The pain in his head multiplied exponentially as Kylo’s eyes locked on his own. He felt worn out. Stretched thin. Butter spread across too much toast.

 

Hux's voice was a rasp, harsh and grating, when he spoke. “ _What have you demons done to me_?”

 

Kylo pounded a fist into his own forehead, gritting his teeth at the pain, before Rey reached across Hux’s legs to grab Kylo’s wrist and pull his hand away.

 

“Saved your life,” she said to Hux, after a moment. “I think.” She leaned back again and Hux had to consciously keep from rubbing the spot where her body had brushed his. A strange shiver moved up and down his spine.

 

“Did I have _surgery_?” he asked, wincing as he struggled to scoot back as far from her as possible on the narrow bed.

 

“Yes,” Kylo nodded, “You were shot. Quite a few times, actually.”

 

“Did it work?” asked Rey, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. It seemed she was plagued by the same drum-pound headache that threatened to rattle Hux's teeth from his skull. Her hands flexed and clenched in tempo with each throb of pain.

 

Kylo reached over and pinched Hux’s hand, fingernails scrabbling hard into the soft webbing between thumb and forefinger.

 

“ _Ow_ ,” yelped Hux and Rey simultaneously, in surprise and pain.

 

Hux turned to glare at the dark haired man when he was struck by the implication of what had just happened.

 

“No,” he said, terror rising within him as a flood of emotions that weren’t his washed over him. Satisfaction. Pride. Warmth. Fear. _Arousal_. “No, no, no,” he continued, choosing not to dwell on that last, fleeting sensation. “ _What_ _have you done to me_?”

 

Both looked sheepish, but it was Rey who spoke. “I’m sorry, Hux. I didn’t think there was another way.”

 

“Another way to do what, exactly? Invade my senses, prod your way into my mind, uncover my secrets? I imagine you’ll be quite disappointed.”

 

“To save your life,” Rey continued, ignoring his litany of complaints. “The attack on Dathomir was an attack on _you_ —,”

 

“And?—,” he cut in, “A good commander always has enemies. If people want to kill me it means I’m doing my job.”

 

There was a moment of terse silence.

 

“Snoke,” said Kylo eventually, the word rising in his throat like bile, hot and sour. “He’s replacing you.”

 

Hux said nothing to that—and what could he say? The position he’d fought for his whole life, the Order to which he’d _given_ his life, they wanted him no longer.

 

He stood, shakily, all grimaces as he hobbled towards the messy pile of his spent clothing. He dug through the pockets of his discarded jacket, _please let them be here_ — _aha._ His fist clenched triumphantly around a packet of cigarettes. He couldn’t keep the tremor from his hands as he slid one from the box, usually practiced fingers unsteady as the prodded with the lighter.

 

A long, slow inhale and the rush of hot fire in his lungs. He coughed, chest still tender, and exhaled. _Fuck._ Ok.

 

He stumbled back toward the bed, taking in the wide-eyed gazes of the two knights in front of him. They hovered, edged on tenterhooks, anxious to see how he would react. He could feel Kylo’s impatience, a snake coiled at the back of his mind—ready to lash out. Such an odd feeling, having someone in his head. Did they feel like this all the time?

 

He sighed, a thick curl of smoke drifting out from between his lips. The heavy buzz of tobacco cushioned the throb of his headache. He took another drag.

 

“Kriff,” he said finally, breaking the tenuous silence. “This is my _life._ ” Smoke seeped slowly from his nose, obscuring the two warriors until their glimmering eyes were all he could see. “Everything I’ve worked for and—and _you two._ What, you thought you could fix this by smashing our minds together with magic?”

 

He raised his brows and was rewarded by the sheepish looks on their faces, chastised. After a moment, however, Kylo scowled, opening his mouth to speak—

 

A bright burst of light and then there was a feeling like he’d suddenly dropped into frigid water. It took several shuddering inhales before his mind could process that, no, he had not just found himself submerged beneath an icy wave.

 

“What was _that_?” he sputtered, taking a long drag to steady himself.

 

“The Supreme Leader,” said Kylo with a pained expression. “I have to go.”

 

Rey stood as well, face drawn. Frightened but willing.

 

“Stay,” the Knight told her, pounding his fist again into his forehead. “Stay. Teach him to close it off. I’ve had enough of him already.”

 

She nodded, relieved.

 

“Does it always feel like that?” Hux asked, as the last swirl of Kylo’s robes retreated through the doorway. “Being called?”

 

“No.” She shook her head. “No, that’s just _him._ ”

 

“And he wants me dead?”

 

“Maybe,” she said, eyes wary. “Who can tell what he wants.”

 

She turned as if to leave but Hux reached out and grabbed her wrist, pale fingers encircling it easily.

 

“How—How am I alive?” he asked quietly. “I shouldn’t be, should I? I—I had a dream. A dream that you healed me. But that’s not right, is it? You can’t heal others with the dark side of the Force.”

 

Her eyes darted away. “We healed you, that’s all I know. Dark side or light, we did what was necessary.” She pulled her hand from his grip, firm but not rough, and moved away—rearranging Kylo’s mess in order to give her hands something to do.

 

He watched her, the slim curve of her back still clad in the tattered dress of the reception. It was evident in the way she picked Kylo’s things up and simply put them back again that she didn’t know where they were actually supposed to go. Her movements were ginger, hesitant, and as she walked he could see her feet had been heavily bandaged.

 

“I doubt you should be walking,” he said, voice cutting in the heavy silence.

 

“I doubt you should be smoking.”

 

“Fair enough,” he agreed, the ghost of a smile slicing out along his face as she acquiesced to sit on the bed. “Would you like to try one?”

 

“What makes you think I haven’t?” she retorted, annoyed.

 

He shrugged, resettling himself back along the headboard until he was more comfortable. His side throbbed hotly. “Call it a hunch. Am I wrong?”

 

She shook her head, but didn’t reach for the cigarette when he extended it, instead pulling a foot up into her lap to prod at the bandages.

 

Hux was struck by the delicacy of the moment. There was a strange, thick silence in the room—wrapped about them like a blanket, eating noise like heavy snowfall. It felt almost like a weight atop his chest, pressing hard so that each exhale was a struggle, each inhale a triumph. He could _feel_ Rey—a vibrating, humming presence, so alive it was distracting—it was as though some further sense he’d always had had been ramped up into overdrive, every other feeling was a pale shadow in comparison. Muffled. Like landing on a new planet, unsure how the locals will react to your presence.

 

“Thank you,” he said eventually. Words that could stand to fall more often from his lips. “Not for--,” he tapped his head, “— _this_ , exactly. But thank you--for saving me. I doubt your Knight Master would have done it on his own.”

 

She nodded, picking at the frayed edges of her gown. She opened her mouth to say something, and closed it again. Weighing, considering.

 

“He would have,” she said finally. She met his eyes coolly as he took another drag of his cigarette—daring him to challenge her.

 

The glowing ember burned brighter as the air pulled through it, a beacon in the darkness. Rey worried at her lip with her teeth, entranced by the light, watching it grow and fade with each breath. The pulse of it a steady heartbeat.

 

“Say it again,” he said, quiet in the half-light of the room.

 

She looked at him sidelong, a question in her eyes.

 

“Tell me he would have saved me.”

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

 

 

The walk to the hologram chamber took three times as long as usual—or perhaps it simply seemed that way. His mind was elsewhere, flooded with thoughts and feelings that weren’t his own. And he was curious, of course. Curious how Hux and Rey would react to being bound together.

 

He was still surprised that his apprentice would have suggested it. It was unlike her, to bind herself willingly. He wondered for a moment if it was merely _him_ she hadn’t wanted to be bound to—perhaps Hux was a more appealing prospect. The thought nearly stopped him in his tracks. He began to reach out with the Force and stopped himself. _Focus on the task at hand, Kylo. Everything else can be dealt with later. Clear your mind._

 

The doors loomed large in front of him, the thick durasteel darker and more imposing than ever he remembered it. It was strange, keeping secrets from his Master, the man who had given him everything—who had shown him the greatness that was his heritage, the power and the beauty of the dark side. He should give Hux up, he knew, hand him over to the new General, sever the tie between them—it was new, still, fresh and weak. But—something stilled him. A _curiosity._

 

He pressed his hands against the cold metal before him, relishing the burn of it. So rare that he was without gloves, a new, almost overwhelming sensation in the already crowded turmoil of his mind--the kiss of the door against his palms. Steeling himself, he pushed through the doorway and into the dark maw within.

 

His Master’s hologram burned neon blue, the flickering light searing his retinas even through the filter of his mask. Snoke didn’t wait for him to reach the end of the hallway before speaking.

 

"There has been a change in you, my Knight." The booming, whispering, contradicting of a voice struck a strange dread into Kylo’s heart, raising pinpricks at the nape of his neck. _No_. He reminded himself. _He can't tell_. Couldn't feel the bond with Rey—why should this be different?

 

"Master?" he replied, voice thankfully level.

 

"You, my child, have always been an—imperfect vessel.” A sigh. “Born of light and dark and yet—so _unstable_. What should be a balance within is a war, pulling you ever this way and that. And yet—," long fingers stroked his chin, "—there is a new stability." The praise was faint, ill-built to linger, drowned out by Snoke’s voice as it droned through the continuing litany of Kylo’s faults.

 

The Knight bowed his head. _Mouth shut, Kylo, speak only as necessary_. If left uninterrupted, the Supreme Leader could soliloquize for hours on a topic. Particularly when that topic was Kylo's inadequacies. He focused instead on building up a familiar wall within himself, brick by aching brick, blocking out the stream of his master's words.

 

The towering figure peered down at the knight, and a flush of renewed interest gripped Kylo. Tendrils of the Force brushed softly against his face, questing at the front of his mind. He could see their faces, and with them a flood of emotions, begin to swim into view and clenched his eyes tight in a warding gesture.

 

Desperate for a shift in attention, he broke the rule he had laid down for himself only moments ago. "You summoned me, Master?"

 

His words broke Snoke's reverie, the tight squeeze of the Force around Kylo's head retreating.

 

"Hm? Oh, yes—yes of course." The towering figure paused, as though waiting for the knight to ask again. When Kylo did not indulge him, he continued.

 

"As you may have divined, there has been a— _rearrangement_ of the command structure in the First Order.  Don’t let it worry you, as it will have little bearing on the Knights of Ren. Our greater scheme is untouched of course, my apprentice, it is merely the pieces on the board which have shifted. General Lai is in command of the Finalizer now. You are to show him the same deference as you gave the former General--"

 

"Yes, Master."

 

"—Who has disappeared quite mysteriously, they say. Leaving behind only an empty bed and a destroyed medi-droid."

 

Kylo’s breath caught.

 

"Stupid to leave your calling card, my Knight. I thought you'd learned better by now. I've allowed your little—hm,  _power-plays_ with the man, provided they didn't interfere with your training, but this—this goes too far." His voice rose to a grinding crescendo. "You overstep your bounds."

 

Kylo took a shaky breath, bracing himself for the pain that was surely coming, hoping he might be silver-tongued in his lie. "It was—it was a _necessity_ my lord. During the attack Gen—," he managed to catch himself, " _Mister_ Hux became somehow entangled in the Force-bond between myself and my apprentice"

 

" _What?_ " Snoke’s voice was shrill, furious. Not _quite_ the reaction Rey had planned—though Kylo had tried to warn her of that. For all her glimpses into Snoke's mind, she couldn't hope to match the experience of his apprentice--

 

Ah. There. _There_. The pain. _Finally._ It was almost a relief. The sharp searing heat of it, a feeling like a hundred cuts opening, blooming bloody across his abdomen, though he knew when he looked later his skin would be blank, unmarred. He breathed shallowly, thin huffs of air through his nose.

 

"The bond—," he choked, feeling the sting of bile rise in his throat, "—is volatile—,"

 

"And this necessitated secreting the man away? Your actions betray you, my Knight. You've grown _fond._ " The pain receded, marginally, as though in deciding Kylo's actions were born of weakness rather than spite or revolution, Snoke could be lenient.

 

"I was—," _Afraid_. _Afraid to lose him._ No _. No. Say anything but that._ "I was— _unwilling_ to leave the G— _Hux_ exposed until I learned the full extent of this bond. Ensnared as he is, I do not know what affect his death might have on my mind—," he bowed his head; hoping deference would aid the lie. "—Nor that of my apprentice."

 

"Sever the bond, Kylo," the order came finally, sharp and booming, and Kylo felt a weight like a heavy stone drop upon his chest. "I am tired of your excuses for keeping it. Whatever feelings you harbor for the girl, for Hux—they weaken you. Lust is a far weaker base of power than rage or envy, even loneliness. It is too fleeting, morphs too quickly into something— _else_."

 

"Yes, Master,” he paused, bracing himself, aware that this next request might be a stretch in the wake of his lie, “I had wondered if perhaps Rey might be allowed her trial. Her training has been, for the most part, successful, and she served admirably at my side during the Dathomiri fiasco--"

 

" _Fiasco_ is the correct word for it.” Snoke seemed pensive for a moment before deciding. “ _No_ , Kylo. She is not ready—and Kyber too rare. I was mistaken once already, I indulged you-- _trusted_ you, and see the trouble it brought me. _Cracked crystals and broken vessels_."

His Master's voice was mocking as the Force slunk tight around Kylo's throat, pulling him high, higher, until he struggled to keep the points of his toes on the floor. Breaths came hard, black spots shaking at the edges of his vision.

Snoke continued, heedless of his apprentice's gasps, "You were meant to be the fulcrum on which balanced the world, and by your own impatience and arrogance you proved yourself unworthy to rule alone."

The pressure released and the Knight crashed forward onto his knees, panting and heaving. They were familiar complaints, ones that he had heard from his Master many times before. Kylo bowed his head, bracing himself for more pain. To his surprise, it did not come.

 

He chanced a last attempt. “Master, I had thought, well—the plan was a rule of three parties—couldn’t the bond _strengthen_ —,”

 

“Break the bond, Kylo.” His Master’s voice was heavy with the weight of disappointment. “If you cannot break it, kill them both.” His thin white hand gestured limply. “Do not presume to know my plans, apprentice, and do not further presume to understand them. My patience wears thin with your mistakes.”

 

Needle sharp pain in Kylo’s hands, his legs, his groin. A thousand tiny knives, cutting. He nearly sobbed at the relief of it, the waiting worse than the punishment.

 

“Thank you, Master,” he choked, wringing the words from his aching throat.

 

"You are dismissed."

 

He retreated down the hallway, a strange, sick feeling rising in his stomach. He swallowed back hot bile as it surged and crested at the base of his throat.

 

"And Kylo?" Came his Master's voice, echoing across his back like the sting of hailstones, "The ex-General _will_ die. It was Lai's only request."

 

The Knight did not look back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo nearly sagged against the wall of the corridor as the metal doors slid shut behind him, but instead managed to brace himself, one hand outstretched as the other rubbed at the column of throat beneath his helm. Massaging away pins and needles.

 

It was several moments before he was able to be on his way. _The ex-general will die, will die, will die_. The words echoed through his head as he checked again and again that he was holding the bond closed. It was harder now, Hux's presence unfamiliar and familiar at once, harder with three to tell how much was slipping through the cracks.

 

He turned a corner and found himself staring down at the last person he wanted to see.

 

"Ah, master Knight, _just_ the person I wanted to see," said General Lai, smiling and completely, utterly at ease. There was an aura of charm about him, as though he had not yet been weighed down by the anchor of responsibilities, or moreso, that he had found them tedious and simply shucked them off. He had none of the dour time-schedule of duty about him, as Hux had worn in the position. He seemed the type of man to whom everything came easily. Kylo hated him even more for that.

 

_Politeness, Kylo._ The Knight inclined his head. "General."

 

The man's eyes flicked up and down Kylo with evident interest, giving the Knight the opportunity to study the new general in return. Kylo placed his age young, though that could simply be the air or good-natured mischief he wore about him like a cloak. Dark hair, dark glinting eyes, and of course that odd tattoo, sitting squarely in the middle of his forehead. There was an uncomfortable aura about it, not the Force per se, but _something_. As Kylo watched it seemed to follow his face, even as Lai's eyes worked their way lower on his form. He shivered despite himself.

 

"The heir to the Empire," said Lai, after a long moment had passed. "The heir to two empires--if one can consider the Jedi an empire without their prodigal son."

 

Kylo stiffened at the words.

 

"Heir to both sides of the Force and yet—content to share power with the General of the First Order." He trained his gaze upon Kylo's mask, as though searching for a reaction behind the dull metal. "He must have been a remarkable man."

 

Kylo didn't miss the unsubtle use of the past tense. "I do as my Master bids me."

 

"Indeed," nodded Lai, "we are all in the service of the Supreme Leader, after all."

 

His eyes flicked down again to the saber at Kylo's waist.

 

"May I?" He inclined his head.

 

Kylo's hand clenched instinctively. _Treat him as you would treat Hux._ He tried to remember whether the former General had ever asked to hold his personal possessions. "No," he replied curtly.

 

"Ah, of course, it must be a very personal thing to hold a man's weapon." There was an edge to the man's voice that struck Kylo as a jab.

 

"Still", continued the man. "It seems a useful thing. A blade that can cut through anything."

 

Not strictly true, but Kylo didn't care to correct him. He could feel the bubbling rage of his anger seeping up from the pit of his belly, fueled by pain and annoyance, and he was doing his best to keep it down.

 

"Kyber crystals are exceedingly rare these days, are they not?" continued Lai, unintimidated, as Kylo attempted to burn a hole through his head with the force of his glare alone.

 

"There will always be those who know how to acquire a thing when it is needed." His mind jumped strangely at that thought, turning unbidden to his father. The man who'd given up a rebellion General's power to smuggle cheap trinkets across the stars. Kylo had never understood why, though at the moment the thought of flying off alone to a distant system was showing some appeal. 

 

The man before him took in a sharp breath, almost a hiss. "Are you telling me you are in a position to procure Kyber?"

 

Ah, thought Kylo, one of _those?_  The fall of the Sith and the subsequent disappearance of the Jedi had left a flourishing market for pretenders and zealots. Those who would do almost anything to get their hands on a lightsaber or other memorabilia. An idea struck him.

 

“Perhaps.” Whether this was strictly true or not was, for the most part, irrelevant.

 

Lai’s handsome face twisted with greed, the charming façade he wore so easily cracking in his excitement. “Then perhaps you can be of use after all, Lord Ren. And here I thought you were just a pretty face.” He reached up to drag his fingers along the bottom edge of Kylo’s helm. “The old Empire and the Jedi die with you. Pity.”

Kylo got the impression he was considering something, speaking more to himself than to the Knight in front of him. “And a pity you’ve returned to that awful helmet.” He tilted his head. “Ah, well. There’s always the apprentice.”

 

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, during which Kylo wondered if the other man expected a response, but refused to dignify him with one.

 

“Well,” said Lai eventually, “To the matter at hand.” He held up one hand as though to examine his fingers, heedless of the fact he was wearing gloves. “I know you have the ex-General.”

 

The cool indifference of Lai’s tone crawled out along Kylo’s skin like a host of insects. He said nothing.

 

“Keep him, if you’d like,” continued Lai, “But he _will_ stand trial eventually, and he _will_ be executed for his crimes.”

 

“Crimes?” asked Kylo, trusting the composure of the vocoder to steady him.

 

Lai tilted his head again and a strange expression, akin to pity, etched itself out across his features. “Your General left hundreds of thousands to die on Starkiller Base. Hundreds of thousands of our own people, abandoned to perish on his creation.” He pursed his lips. “Surely even you can see such disloyalty cannot be allowed. A General is obligated to go down with his--weapon, as it were.”

 

Kylo nodded stiffly. “ _Indeed._ ”

 

“You disagree,” said Lai with a tight, half-smile. “Understandable. He seems to hold some thrall over you, this man. That will end soon. Perhaps I’ll even request that you be the one to do it.”

 

That was the final straw. Without thinking Kylo thrust his hand forward, curling invisible fingers in with the Force to choke, to pull, to dismember. It was like placing his hand on a hot compressor coil, the pain leaving him breathless as he pushed and pushed and— _nothing._

 

Lai laughed, a throaty, hearty sound. Before Kylo could understand what was happening the smaller man had him slammed back against the wall, elbow tight against his throat, wedged beneath the edge of his mask.

 

“Sh-sh-sh," chided the new General, as one might pacify a child. "Oh, Kylo, you’re my dog now. You’ll jump when I order.”

 

Kylo’s already injured throat rattled as he struggled to draw breath through the pressure of Lai’s arm. He opened his mouth to protest but all that came out through his vocoder was a discordant growl.

 

“ _That’s_ it,” laughed Lai as he ran a hand gently across Kylo’s helmet. “ _Good boy_.”

 

He pulled his arm back and Kylo drew a shuddering breath. Black seeped into the edges of his vision and he struggled to stay upright.

 

“I take care of my friends, Ren, you’d do well to remember that. If you can manage to get me that Kyber, well, I’ll see to it that you are— _rewarded_.”

 

He paused, head angled as he took in the Knight’s visage, waiting. Kylo managed a nod. And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, Lai was gone. Pacing away down the corridor with a stocky, jaunty stride, making his own way to the hologram chamber from whence Kylo had come.

 

A slow hiss of air trickled from Kylo's mouth—time for a plan of his own.

 

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

 

Kylo burst into the room, hoping, perhaps, to surprise them, but to what end none of them were quite sure. There was a strange, feverish look in his eyes. The same look TIE pilots sometimes got before they went mad in battle, refusing to dock until, unfortunately, they had to be shot down.

 

Hux was seated on the bed, propped up against the headboard, legs stretched out before him. The position pulled tight against the bacta patches on his side but he didn’t care, the quick throbbing pulses of pain felt good, grounding. A link between his body and his mind, which seemed to be darting off every which way.

 

Rey was perched on the edge of the bed, as far away from Hux as it was possible to be and still, technically, be occupying the same space. She was turning a key chip over and over in her hands. Neither Hux nor Rey was speaking, though there was a tension in the air as though they had only just fallen silent.

 

“And?” asked Hux, uncomfortable with Kylo’s eyes burning a hole through him.

 

Ren ignored him, turning instead to his apprentice. “Do you think we have a bag large enough to carry him?” He jerked his chin in the redhead’s direction.

 

She stuck out her bottom lip and chewed it, thinking. “I don’t, be he might? He packs heavy.” If she noticed his slipping usage of the word ‘we’ she ignored it.

 

“I’m capable of walking on my own,” came Hux’s annoyed voice. “And I don’t enjoy being spoken of as though I’m not in the room.”

 

Kylo ignored him and continued addressing Rey. “I’ve spoken with the Supreme Leader and he agrees with me. You’re ready to become a full Knight. Ready to face your trial.”

 

Despite the solemnity of the room there was a sudden surge of excitement. A feeling like anxious butterflies rose in all three stomachs.

 

“Ha,” mused Hux, expelling a huff of air, “That’s a strange feeling.”

 

“Sorry,” replied Rey sheepishly before closing the bond, sharply, like a cigarette case snapping on fingers.

 

“Pack,” Kylo nodded to her and she scrambled up and out of the room.

 

There was a moment of silence before Kylo moved. Stalking over to Hux’s side to check his bandages with deft fingers. Hux slapped his hands away, irritated, and Kylo glared at him in return.

 

“You lied to her,” he said, “Why?”

 

The Knight scowled and stuck out a lip in concentration as he again attempted to re-situate Hux’s bandages. Hux angled his body away and Kylo growled in frustration.

 

“It was a good lie,” Hux allowed, “Anything less exciting and she would have seen right through you.”

 

“Let me fix your bandages.”

 

Hux caught Ren’s wrist. “Tell me why.”

 

“You have to get out of here,” said Kylo, not meeting his eyes. Hux allowed him to peel back the blood dappled gauze.

 

“What does this have to do with me?” he asked, letting out a hiss of pain as Kylo gently probed the wound.

 

“Lai,” said the Knight as he ran his hands over Hux’s flank. He reached onto the endtable beside him and grabbed the jar of bacta. Hux watched as the knight spread the healing gel across his side, keeping his eyes fixed determinedly away from the ex-General’s face. “He wants you dead. The Supreme Leader agrees.”

 

Hux couldn’t help but grip Kylo’s shoulder as the cool, soothing effect of the bacta took hold.

 

“Smart of him.” He didn't bother to keep the bitterness from his voice. “He’s seen where the support of the people lies. Ah--,” He choked back a gasp as Kylo salved a second handful of gel over the first. “--and what does it matter to you, Ren? Let them kill me. Why do any of this?”

 

Kylo finally met his eyes. “Starkiller was a failure in three parts. Creator, protector, destroyer.”

 

“Poetic--,” mused Hux, rearranging the coverlet about his legs. “--striking, and, of course, absolute _nonsense_. I may have commanded the base but I’m in no way its creator. _You_ never had direct orders regarding its use or its protection, and Rey certainly didn’t destroy the thing on her own—I seem to recall several key players and a lucky X-wing pilot.”

 

“They aren’t my words,” replied Kylo, annoyed. “I heard them, a long time ago.” He finished rewrapped the bandages with a grip that was perhaps a bit harsher than it needed to be.

 

Hux ignored that, he’d had enough of bonds and prophecies and the Force for a lifetime. He struggled to sit forward on the bed, wincing at the tightness of the new wrappings. “None of this is on your shoulders, or Rey’s. _I_ gave the orders alone. To fire, and to—to abandon ship.”

 

“Still,” said Kylo, and Hux had a suspicion that the man understood things he had left unsaid. “You need to get off this ship, we happen to be leaving. If you’re eager to die, by all means, don’t come.” The Knight stood, turning away.

 

Hux scowled at his back. “ _Fine_. But I can’t imagine a bag is your best idea.”

 

* * *

 

Rey wasn’t sure whether it was luck or providence, but they encountered no one in the halls.

 

Even the hangar bay, usually bustling even in the later hours, was silent. Cold and still. Their boots rang out sharply across the duracrete as they stalked through the bay at a steady clip. Though it should have been reassuring, Rey couldn’t shake the feeling of unease she got at seeing everything so empty.

 

A strange emotion swelled in her throat at the thought that this was all somehow _normal_. That she knew enough about the ship to know where it should be busy and when. That she could feel at home in a world of intrigue, plotting, and political power. She’d been pulled into this strange twilight place of half-truths and unspoken confessions and—somehow, impossibly—it felt startlingly _right._

 

The heavy bag in her grip shifted, drawing her attention back to the present. _Almost there._ She tried to convey the sensation of arrival as best she could through the bond. Words were tricky—emotions, pictures, memories much simpler.

 

She and Kylo boarded the ship quickly, hefting the bag in which Hux was oh-so-unceremoniously curled. Upon entering the cockpit Kylo dropped his end, uncaring at the muffled groan of pain that filtered through the zippered top. Rey set down her end more gently, pulling back the tab to release a gasping Hux as Kylo began preparations for takeoff.

 

“Was that really necessary?” growled Hux as he rubbed a hand across his hip.

 

Rey shrugged apologetically. “He’s—,”

 

“Nervous. Yes, I can feel it too.” He sighed and waved a hand at her, “Go. Fly. I’ll put the bags away.”

 

Even in a strange, fly-by-night departure he could feel Rey’s excitement at the chance to pilot. A swift, bubbling joy that rose up from somewhere deep in their chests. A strange, unbound feeling, untempered by decorum or self-consciousness.

 

He found himself smiling without quite knowing why, and as soon as the realization hit him he forced his mouth back into a frown. This wasn’t the time for frivolity. Not when he was running for his life.

 

He started to rise but Kylo’s barked command kept him where he was. “Stay down.” Rey glared at the Knight and he amended. “Until we’re off the Finalizer.”

 

 _Probably smart_ , thought Hux as he acquiesced to lay back along the ground. And if the position was kinder to the bacta-smeared wound on his side, well then, all the better.

 

“This is shuttle 58891 requesting clearance.” Ren’s voice was harsh as he clipped the command through his vocoder.

 

The holoscreen activated with a frizzing noise, a nervous lieutenant’s voice audible.

 

“Shuttle 58891, we do not have you scheduled for a departure.”

 

“Correct, lieutenant,” said Ren with more politeness than Hux had thought possible. “This is an unscheduled mission—at the behest of General Lai.”

 

Hux raised his eyebrows at that but said nothing, instead staring at the ceiling.

 

The lieutenant’s voice, when it came, was shaky and apologetic. No one liked to offend Ren—who knew how far away you had to be before he couldn’t choke you anymore. The young man swallowed nervously. “—Sorry, sir. I’ll have to check for authorization with the General. New orders.”

 

Hux could feel Ren frown beneath the mask, irritated, though luckily the lieutenant could see nothing. “Tell him it pertains to the mission we discussed earlier,” said Kylo, and paused. “—regarding crystals.”

 

“Ah. _Ah_ ,” said the lieutenant and his eyes widened, sliding briefly across Rey, who sat impassive, a stone carving of herself. “Well, in that case, I imagine authorization is implied. No need to bother him. Allow me to procure the necessary codes.” The screen went dark with a _blip._

 

“What was that?” asked Rey as soon as there was silence. “You have a mission from Lai?” She narrowed her eyes. “What happened to not keeping secrets, _Master?_ ”

 

“Later,” growled Ren, and Hux had to keep from rolling his eyes.

 

“If you’re going to turn traitor and run to Lai you might as well leave me here and save yourself a trip,” drawled Hux from the floor.

 

Ren’s fist slammed against the console. “Be _quiet,_ ” he snarled and Hux felt the weight of his nerves and anger and fear before the other man remembered to close off his mind. He was scared—not, not for himself, but for Hux.

 

A crackling noise and the screen reactivated. “Sorry for the delay, sir. You’re cleared for departure.”

 

Part of Hux was annoyed at the ease in which his subordinates had accepted their new leader. Though to be fair, he supposed, he couldn't imagine they'd had much choice.

 

Ren nodded to Rey and twisted a dial, deactivating the screen once more. “Let’s go, quickly,” he said, and she murmured her assent.

 

* * *

 

 

It was long hours before they reached their destination, but none of them slept. The cockpit was tense, silent. Hux, pulling himself up into one of the bucket-shaped seats, attempted to doze and found himself unable, the apprehensive air spilling through the bond and setting everything to humming—like the feeling of a viol bow pulled across taut strings.

 

Eventually the streaks of hyperspace faded and a small planet swam into view.

 

“Where are we?” croaked Hux, throat dry from the recycled air of the ship.

 

“Xoirus 296,” replied Ren when Rey shrugged. “A mining planet.” He tapped a foot against the floor. “Where most of the alloy for duracrete comes from.”

 

“Ah,” said Hux, “Explains the atmosphere.” Rey glanced back at him and he felt her confusion. “That kind of mining kicks up large amounts of chemicals into the air. Beautiful sunsets, but you’ll be dead within a few years,” he turned to Ren, “Tell me we’re not staying long.”

 

The knight nodded, “Only to get supplies and disguise you, then we’re taking you wherever you want to go and leaving you there.”

 

“We’re _what_?” asked Rey, taken aback. The ship—in manual now as they came in for a landing through the blinding purple-red haze of the clouds—rocked under her fingers.

 

“Land first,” said Ren, voice mechanical through the mask he still hadn’t taken off. _Hiding_ , thought Hux.

 

Rey scowled and focused on putting the ship down, following the coordinates that Ren had preprogrammed into the map.

 

“Away from the settlement,” ordered the Knight and Rey obeyed, touching them down into the heavy snow with her usual finesse.

 

With the thud of the landing gear engaged Ren stood turning to move into the back of the ship, but Rey grabbed his arm, halting his progress. “ _No._ Tell me what’s going on Kylo.”

 

He reached up to unclasp the mask, disengaging it with a sharp hiss. “Lai wants Hux dead.”

 

“That part is quite clear, Ren,” said Hux. “Perhaps you’d like to explain why your procuring crystals for Lai, or lying to Rey about achieving her knighthood.”

 

Rey’s eyes went wide and she fixed the Knight with a further glare.

 

“ _Enough_ , Hux,” said Kylo, but instead of the starburst of anger Hux had expected, he felt a strange unsteadiness. The Knight turned to his apprentice. “The Supreme Lea—Snoke,” he corrected himself, “Snoke doesn’t think you’re ready. He’s ordered me to break the bond between us, and if I can’t, to kill you.”

 

He let the weight of the statement fall over them both. Rey seemed oddly unsurprised, perhaps she had known, or suspected, that Snoke viewed her as more liability than asset to his favored Knight.

 

“And do you?” she pressed.

 

“Do I what?”

 

“Think I’m ready—to face whatever _trial_ it is I have to face.” She searched his expression, looking for a hint of his feelings. Annoyed that he had closed himself off from her.

 

The Knight didn’t answer, though something about his posture was hesitant.

 

“Is this as far as your plan takes us?” asked Hux after a few minutes had passed. He made a face. “Not the _most_ well-thought out, but I’ve gone further on less.”

 

Kylo blew out a breath. He stood again and moved toward the rear of the ship, making his way into the refresher. When he emerged several seconds later he held a small vibroblade razor in his hand.

 

“No. You need a disguise.”

 

* * *

 

 

The evening sun gleamed through the viewport, setting Hux’s red-gold hair—shorn down short against his skull—aglow. Kylo’s fingers itched to run through it, to rub his palms against the texture. He clenched his hand tight around the razor and shuffled his feet instead.

 

“Its not enough,” proclaimed Rey from her perch in the Captain’s chair, knees tucked up under her chin, arms wrapped around herself. “You’re still recognizable.”

 

Hux shifted from his position, leaning back  against Kylo’s knees. The Knight felt Hux’s annoyance at the correctness of the statement before the other man remembered to pinch the bond shut.

 

“Good,” said Kylo, resting a hand on Hux’s back, almost at the nape of his neck. “You’re learning.”

 

Hux bristled at the touch, shrugging off Kylo’s hand. “I’m not a child,” he snapped, “I don’t require a child’s encouragement.”

 

Kylo made no such attempts to hide his own annoyance. “Rey is right. You need more of a disguise.”

 

“I’ll grow out my beard,” conceded Hux, rubbing a hand across his face. In the scant few days he’d been absent his regular routine a smattering of red-gold bristles has become noticeable on his face. Kylo watched the motion of his fingers, somewhat surprised at how arousing he found the sight. All of it, Hux vulnerable, disheveled, needy—it was so unlike their usual dynamic that he couldn’t help but relish it.

 

Rey shifted in her chair and Kylo wondered if she agreed. It was odd, to be so connected and yet trying so hard to remain detached. Hux had complicated it all, or perhaps it was he himself that had complicated it all by becoming involved with the man.

 

He held up a recently cut strand of hair, twirling it between his fingers. “The problem is the color—well, and the fact that your face is plastered on flimsies all over the inner rim.”

 

“Not my choice,” said Hux, rightfully sensing that Kylo was needling him.

 

Rey snorted, leaning back in the chair. She’d been watching with interest throughout the event, curious as Kylo had meticulously worked the razor over Hux’s scalp. Kylo wondered fleetingly whether she’d even had a haircut she hadn’t given herself.

 

Hux picked up the fallen razor, clicking it on and off experimentally. “So, which of you is next?”

 

“I’ll go,” said Rey, simultaneously with Kylo’s disgusted “Why?”

 

“You’ll give me away.”

 

“No one will know us by sight,” said Kylo. “And we wont be here long. We have to get you to the outer rim, where fewer people have seen your face.”

 

“Fine,” shrugged Hux, and stood, brushing stray hair off himself as he made his way to the refresher unit. He needed a shower, a cigarette, and, if he was honest with himself, _several_ shots of Truskani whiskey.

 

 _Damn_ , it was a sonic. Not nearly as good for contemplation as a real hydro-shower. There was something about the pounding beat of water against flesh that could scour away all but the worst problems. He rested his head against the wall of the unit, silent under the light finger-brush pulse of the sonic. He could hear the faint tones of Ren and Rey bickering beyond the door, could feel the peaks and valleys of their anger, but made no attempt to close himself off. It helped, somehow, to be connected.

 

He hadn’t thought it would, when they had sprung it on him, but there was a strange comfort in it. Something to knowing that whatever happened, knowing you weren’t alone. _Fuck._ He’d thought he’d die alone, had been prepared for it, and yet—here he was connected intangibly, impossibly, to two of the most frustrating people he’d ever met.

 

He sighed, his breath turning instantly to steam, and switched off the unit.

 

He pulled on clean clothes, thankful that they’d managed to secure some before leaving, and felt slightly better about the fact that many, many people wanted him dead. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror before leaving, sunken eyes seeming larger than normal in a face no longer framed by strands of hair. He looked gaunt, pale and washed out, like something forgotten in the sun, bleached by time.

 

He shook his head at himself and exited.

 

Ren and Rey were still arguing, he paused at the mouth of the cockpit, not quite ready yet to re-immerse himself in the quagmire of thoughts and words and plans. He counted to ten, clenched and unclenched his hands, listening.

 

“ _No_ ,” said Kylo, and it sounded as though it wasn’t the first time. “They don't let you pay with credits and using an account makes us trackable.”

 

Rey pulled a hand through her hair. “Well I didn’t _know that._ ”

 

“Of course you didn’t—grubby little scavengers never have to deal with money.”

 

“Yes,” she agreed, voice teetering on the edge of yelling now. “How _lucky_ we are.”

 

Hux watched from the doorway, trying to gauge the reason for the argument. He could feel the hum of tension in the air, but beneath it something darker, moodier. _Fear._ A bright green oozing feeling.

 

“Why do you care, anyway?” the Knight spat, “You’ve never wanted to share a room before. Wouldn’t you rather sleep under the engine like the little grease monkey you are?”

 

Her eyes went wide and then narrowed. “ _Arse,_ ” she retorted, pulling her coat tight around herself as she slammed her hand on the access pad. A whoosh of cold air entered the ship and she was gone, out into the night.

 

Ren growled, lashing out with fists to slam against the metal paneled walls of the cockpit. Hux waited out the tantrum, glad that Kylo hadn’t yet pulled out his lightsaber. After several minutes the Knight was left panting, forehead resting against the cold metal. Hux could feel it as sharply as though it were his own head pressed there.

 

“You are being an arse,” he pointed out after several seconds. “More than usual for you, even.”

 

Ren whirled to face him.

 

Another growl and the Knight was looming over him, fist raised as if to strike. Hux thrust out his chin—daring him. There was a moment of fierce, shining clarity and the Knight crumpled, dropping his fist to thud dully against his thigh.

 

“Do you need to go after her?” asked Hux, nodding in the direction of Rey’s departure.

 

“She’s her own person,” he replied, an answer and yet not an answer at all.

 

Hux leaned back against the wall. “It’s cold out there,” he commented non-commitally.

 

“So let her freeze,” snarled Ren, as he stalked toward Hux. His kiss, when it came, was strangely gentle, soft and sweet. Hux couldn’t remember a time he’d been kissed like that. It felt oddly final. _A goodbye_.

 

“Stay with me,” he whispered against Kylo’s mouth, hating the pleading in his voice. “You—you and Rey both.”

 

“No.”

 

The bluntness of the refusal stung like a slap. He tried to step backwards and only found himself trapped. “You said Starkiller’s failure belongs to the three of us--how was it you phrased it? Creator, protector, destroyer,” he spat out the words in half-laughter. “You think he wouldn’t replace you, Kylo, if he could? You think he’s happy you bound yourself to Rey?”

 

The knight’s face was stricken, emotions plain without the solace of his mask to hide them. “He won’t.”

 

“Only because you killed the other options—or, at least, you thought you had. Rey escaped you, there must be more. Who knows how many more Knights the Supreme Leader has been training on distant worlds, waiting to take your place.”

 

The walls of the shuttle groaned, as though there was suddenly too much air, pressing out with a creaking, cracking sound. Ren’s hands clenched and unclenched until it was too much and he slammed a fist into the wall, denting the metal.

 

“ _He won’t,_ ” cried the Knight again in fear and rage and it was like a tractor beam, pulling Hux in. He winced as he moved forward, calling strength he didn’t know remained from somewhere deep within him as he crushed the other man’s lips with his own.

 

“Stay,” he said again, when they finally broke apart, and they both knew it was the last time he would ask.

 

Kylo’s eyes went wide, his lips pink and flushed under the pressure of Hux’s kiss. “Get out.”

 

“ _What?_ Where do you want me to go?”

 

Ren gasped suddenly, pounding his fist into his forehead. “I don’t care, but _get out._ ” A cry of pain slipped through clenched teeth, “ _He’s in my head._ He’s looking for me. You can’t be here.”

 

Hux nodded, lips pulled tight, and slipped out into the snow.

 

* * *

 


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

 

 

Hux followed Rey’s windswept footsteps through the snow-dappled copse of trees and down into the town. They led him to the doorstep of a small bar. At least, he assumed it was a bar from the flashing neon olive that danced delightedly in and out of a martini glass on the sign above him.

 

The bar seemed to be under construction, built of stacked logs that had not been fully stripped of their bark—though looking around at the other town structures perhaps that was merely the style here.

 

He pushed his way through several layers of hanging cloth and what he hoped were _animal_ skins, which was apparently what functioned as a door in this establishment. The inside was dingy, dim in comparison to the purple-red reflection of the snow outside, which had left him blinking.

 

He looked around for Rey, taking in the shaded shapes of the other patrons. The bar was crowded, the darkest corners illuminated with the blue-white holos of half-naked dancing girls—seemed Xoiros 296 was too woman-poor to afford the real thing.

 

He saw Rey, eventually, a thin form drowning in an oversized coat she hadn’t yet removed. That’s right, she didn’t like the cold. Too long in the desert. He sidled up to the bar beside her. She glanced at him briefly and then stared back into her glass.

 

“Oh good, _you’re_ here,” she made a face, “I don’t have any credits and he won’t barter.”

 

Hux nodded, unsurprised. “Not many do, outside of the odd junk world.”

 

Her shoulders tensed at the crude description of her homeworld, but she shrugged it off—Jakku wasn’t worth defending.

 

Hux caught the bartender’s eye. “Phrygian scotch,” he ordered, “Two fingers, neat.”

 

The bartender, a knobby skinned Rodian with the cough of a man who’d been mining for too many years, narrowed his eyes. “Don’t know what that is. Ain’t got it.”

 

Hux fought the urge to curse. “Fine. Your strongest liquor, with ice,” he paused, “ _Clean_ ice.”

 

The bartender nodded as though it was a common clarification and bustled away. He returned some short minutes later with a lowball glass, half-filled with a transparent, faintly green-yellow liquid. It almost glowed in the dim lighting.

 

Hux thanked him, took a sip, and coughed immediately. “ _Kriff_ , what is this?”

 

“The Miner’s Kiss.” The bartender slapped his chest, “On account of it makes ya cough. Not the prettiest, but it gets the job done.”

 

Hux slid some credits across the bar and nodded toward Rey, “Hers too.”

 

“You sure miss?” asked the bartender, turning to Rey, “He smells like money but looks like trouble. Like I told you, you can work off the price of yer drink.”

 

Rey nodded and waved a hand, “Its fine, I know him.”

 

The bartender grinned and moved away down the bar.

 

Hux turned to Rey, who was staring into her glass as though it contained the mysteries of the universe. He could feel the anger radiating off her in waves, crumpled at the edges by the blurring quality of the alcohol.

 

"You know Ren's always like this—," he began, before she cut him off.

 

"I don’t want to talk about him."

 

"Why—," he began, and then stopped, "—never mind."

 

"No go ahead," she tapped the bottom of her nearly empty glass against the countertop.

 

He took another sip of the Kiss, and almost managed not to cough aloud. "You and Ren—why?" He asked, unable to find a better way to phrase his query. It was the question that had been niggling at the back of his mind since he met her. “—It doesn't quite fit, somehow."

 

She shrugged. "I could say the same to you. You saw something in him."

 

Hux laughed. " _Power_ ,” he said, as though that explained everything. “But sometimes I wonder if it wasn't just this all along." He tapped his head. Neither would say the words out loud. _The Force._ "He's like a magnet. I thought if--if I could only get him on my side—," He pursed his lips. "Not that it matters now."

 

She was quiet for a moment and Hux took another sip. “Freedom,” she said eventually.

 

He quickly swallowed down the sour sting of the drink, setting fire to his esophagus. “Pardon?”

 

“I—I wanted him out of my head, and I thought—if I only learned to control this, this _power_ in me then I’d never have to take orders again.” Her face went harsh with the words. “No more Plutt owning my life, no more feeling hunted by Ren, wanted by the resistance, a tool, a weapon—I could just be _me._ ”

 

“And who are you?”

 

“I suppose I’m no one,” she smiled—a small, sad smile that didn’t reach her eyes—and finished the rest of her drink. Gestured to the bartender for another.

 

He choked down the rest of his drink and did the same. Who was he to say no to the pleasure of spending a few hours numb to the world?

 

Approximately an hour later and everything looked much brighter through a veneer of alcohol and vague, undirected laughter.

 

He watched, a half-smile playing about his lips, as Rey struggled to recapture her straw with her mouth, lips fat and red from the cold air. He wondered what it might be like to kiss her—a real kiss, not some challenge to Ren. His brain fuzzed over like champagne bubbles rising in a glass.

 

He watched her wince as the straw stabbed into her lower lip. She trapped the area with her teeth, soothing it with a swipe of her tongue. With his eyes half-lidded he could feel it, a pulsing throb on his own mouth, as though she had bitten him. The thought made him ache pleasurably.

 

A spike of annoyance stabbed into his brain and he knew Ren was looking for them. He stood, the world seeming to curve beneath his feet.

 

"Come on," he said, his voice foreign and fuzzed to his own ears. "We should get back to the ship."

 

She didn’t react until he reached over and pulled the drink from her hand, letting out a whining noise of disappointment. She was as childish as Ren, in her way. All burning passion and power and no discipline.

 

"I'm not a child," said Rey, as though she’d heard his words, her voice tinged with the slur of alcohol. "I did fine on my own before I met any of you."

 

"Indeed," he said, unable to keep the patronizing edge from his tone. "And such a wonderful life you lived, scraping by in the desert. Desperate for rebel boys to rescue you."

 

" _Kriff_ ," she spat, surprised at his sudden pettiness. “I can handle myself _._  If Ren can see it—,”

 

"Ren lies to himself so he doesn't feel bad about fucking you."

 

He realized he was goading her, expecting her to break, lash out, strike—expecting her to be _him_. But she wasn't. Not for the first time that night she caught him by surprise.

 

The tension in her shoulders broke and she laughed. “Jealousy really doesn’t suit you, Bren.”

 

The sound of his name on her lips snapped him out of it. He huffed out a breath, filling the air with the tang of alcohol. He meant to say something—sorry, probably—but the word wouldn’t come.

 

"Do you love him?" He asked instead, the words tumbling from his mouth unintended.

 

"I don’t know," she replied bitterly, and he thought it might be the truth. The alcohol smeared the bond and he couldn't tell for certain.

 

"He loves you," continued Hux, unable to keep the acerbic tinge of jealousy from his voice.

 

"Not by choice." She looked down at her hands. Sighed. "Come on," she said, shrugging her coat up around her neck. "You're right—we should get back." She waited while he dropped a few credits on the bar and tugged at his hand, pulling him though the makeshift door and into the snow-covered world outside.

 

"Wait," he said—fingers thick with cold as he struggled to pull a cigarette from his pocket and light it.

 

A deep inhale set the world to spinning. Three of the eight moons were high, casting bright white-purple gleams along the snow, filtered through the deep violet of the atmosphere. Small green-blue shoots poked through the ice.

 

He crouched, holding his cigarette out away from him like a beacon in the darkness. He brushed ice crystals away with a bare hand.

 

Rey waited without complaint despite the cold, her eyes trained on the moonlit sky above. Watching. The icy air bit into her cheeks, leaving them cherry red and stinging. He could feel it—even on his own cold-accustomed skin. He wanted to press his lips there, to feel the cold burn of her cheek against the hot of his mouth.

 

"What are you—oh," the word left her mouth a soft circle. She crouched down beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

 

"Dreidium niever," he explained, pulling at a soft petal with distracted fingers. "Ice flowers."

 

The sweet singing buzz of alcohol hummed in his veins, keeping him so hot he might be sweating—but Rey shivered beside him.

 

"—the garden," she said, suddenly. "The xixidias.”

 

Ah, she remembered his feeble attempt to win her allegiance. If the hint of embarrassment that slipped through the bond hadn't given him away the soft blush mantling his cheekbones certainly would.

 

She hadn’t noticed, a frown pulling at her face. “You had to leave them behind.” There was such sadness in the statement that he almost laughed—as though his possessions weren’t the least of his worries.

 

He tried to smile and failed. “Take care of them for me. I imagine you’ll be back there soon enough.”

 

She locked eyes with him—gaze searing through him like a medi-ray—watching every beat of his heart as it pumped blood, hot and red, through his body, a casual observer to his innermost workings. “Perhaps,” she said, and the spell was broken.

 

She was a contradiction, this girl, this woman. She'd seen more of the world and less of it in her years than most could boast in a lifetime. She'd experienced hardship beyond measure and yet this was only her second time seeing the snowfall. Naïveté and experience coalesced in this strange, feral being.

 

He moved to stand and stumbled dizzily, the alcohol and smoke swimming through his mind in a haze. Unable to remain upright, he fell backwards into the snowdrift with a soft _whumpf._ He opened his eyes to see Rey’s amused face looking down at him and couldn’t help but laugh—a deep, ringing chuckle that bubbled up from the broken depths of him. And once he had started he couldn’t seem to stop. The cold of the snow, the heat of the alcohol, and the bright, buzzing feel of the girl overwhelming. A sensory contradiction in three parts.

 

He laughed until the shaking peals of it cracked and turned ashen in his mouth. Laughed until the tears became bitter, wet things across his face.

 

A manic exhilaration gripped him, and when Rey offered her hand to heave him upward he tugged her down instead, pulling her slight form into the snow atop him. She held herself up on her arms, gloveless hands buried in the sharp grip of the ice. He reached out to run his thumb over her bottom lip, the motion bringing the lit end of his cigarette dangerously near her cheek. She didn’t flinch away, merely closed her eyes, relishing the warmth of it as it blazed close along the side of her face.

 

He leaned forward. The kiss was blunt, curious, unsteady—the kiss of two people that weren't sure what they wanted from each other—but then harder and softer at once as they found agreement, lips and tongues and teeth and noses bumping, awkward yet seemingly right.

 

"He loves you, you know," she said when she finally pulled away. "He'd never say it but he does."

 

"It's just this kriffing bond," replied Hux, his brow creasing at her words. "It—it makes you feel things."

 

"No," she shook her head. "It doesn't." She didn’t clarify further.

 

The blur of the bond and the alcohol and the two of them was overwhelming. Was it Ren or Rey he was talking to now, or Ren speaking through Rey? His side burned with pain, his lungs with lack of breath, his lips with the sweet aching press of hers as they fell to meet his own again. He thought he might collapse with it.

 

His head swam with a mix of their emotions, running together like raindrops racing along a viewpane.

 

He bowed his head and bit at her neck, sucking a kiss into the join of her shoulder muscle, pressing his frigid hands under the hem of her shirt and delighting in her quick inhale as cold fingers traced patterns onto her skin.

 

He wasn't sure how long they lay there, on their backs in sopping wet coats, staring up at the moons.

 

"Finished?—,” came a hard voice from above them. Ren, seeping like a shadow from the trees.

 

Rey sat up with the hint of a laugh, reaching over to pull Hux up out of the snow.

 

They bundled back into the ship, stripping off soaked outer layers and dumping them unceremoniously on the floor.

 

"If you're had enough of catching frostbite—,"

 

" _Kriff_ , Ren, can you stop being yourself for just one second—,” Hux’s voice was foggy to his own ears.

 

"You're drunk."

 

"Of course I'm fucking _drunk_ ," he responded. "I've been demoted, sent into exile, and now—now I have to listen to _you_.”

 

Rey giggled at that, too loud as the alcohol lowered her inhibitions.

 

“We leave in the morning. To the outer rim.” The Knight thrust a bag of clothes at Hux. “Here. No First Order insignias.”

 

Rey spoke, voice quiet. “This isn’t a plan, Kylo. We’re just running away.”

 

“No. _He’s_ running away. We’re going back.”

 

“I don’t like it,” she took a swaying step toward him.

 

His lip curled into a sneer. “I didn’t ask your opinion, _apprentice._ We are not equals here. I command, you obey.” He turned away as though that finished the matter.

 

“No,” replied Rey.

 

The Knight whirled back, eyes narrowed.

 

“No,” she said again, crossing her arms across her chest. “Stop fighting it. You saved him, you want him alive. You lov—,”

 

“The fact that I want him alive doesn’t mean I’ll die for him.” He tugged at his hair in frustration, “Is that what you want, Rey? To die for the Star Killer? He’s broken—there’s no fight left in him.”

 

Hux felt the tension in the room rise until it was a weight on his chest, squeezing him until his breath came only in short bursts. His eyes went wild as bile rose in his throat. “Gon’ throw up—,” he said quietly, but the other two ignored him, stepping closer to each other until they were nearly nose to nose.

 

Kylo’s mouth worked open and closed, the strong muscle of his neck pulling taut. The atmosphere in the room squeezed tighter, choking, cloying. There was anger, fear, disappointment, tension, and then—then the Knight went suddenly slack, curling his large shoulders in and down, hunching his body small until he and Rey were pressed forehead to forehead.

 

The pressure released and Hux could breathe again. His knees clanged against the durasteel, then his hands as he fell forward.

 

Emotions and memories swirled around him, in him, and he couldn’t tell where he began or where they ended. He felt a mother’s kiss at his brow, the tug of a father’s hand. His? Had it been him who had shared a first kiss with a boy under a tree with meager shade? Had it been his uncle who’d held him when he’d cried? Every touch and feeling he felt threefold, overwhelming as it multiplied—multiplied—multiplied.

 

He remembered the first time he had tried stims—had it been him? It felt like him—that had been like this, the rush and the heat of it. Sweat and goosebumps erupted along his body as he broke, roughly, painfully—resting his forehead against the cool floor.

 

He felt the heat of Starkiller’s energy beam on his face—the void of five planets suddenly ended. He saw a face, dark and twisted in on itself. _Snoke._ He tasted metal in his mouth, oily and bitter. His body heaved.

 

“ _Kriff_.” He heard Ren’s voice as though from lightyears away.

 

He retched violently.

 

Footsteps, and then he felt two hands on his back, the forms of Knight and apprentice on either side, bracketing him.

 

“I was supposed to die,” he choked, the feeling of bile in his throat, hot and sour.

 

“What?” asked Rey softly, pressing a cool palm against his forehead.

 

“On Starkiller. I was supposed to go down with—with—I’d already locked myself in my rooms with a blaster when—,”

 

His body heaved again, coughing and choking. Kylo’s huge hands curled around his shoulders, preventing him from falling forward into his own sick.

 

“I can still taste it,” he gasped out. “The metal in my mouth, the muzzle of the blaster—and—and then—,” he tilted his head sideways to look at the Knight through swollen eyes, “—then I heard _you._ Your voice on the commlink. You were so _angry_. Some girl had ruined your face.”

 

The attempt at humor pushed him over the edge and suddenly he was sobbing, harsh breaths ringing out fast. His throat choked, his face red. Sobbing as though every emotion he’d ever felt was trying to express itself at once, clawing its way out of his chest with angry rending teeth. Flaying him raw.

 

Kylo’s grip tightened on his shoulders. Something of those sobs echoed within him—the day after Starkiller. Floating weightless in the bacta tank. Alone save for the thoughts of his father. Crushing, guilty thoughts. No one had been there, no one had known.

 

Rey pushed back Hux’s sweat slicked hair. Drank in the feeling hopelessness that radiated from him, her intimate companion for 19 years on Jakku—nothing but sand and sun and no reason to wish for a tomorrow. “Fight it,” she whispered as she stroked his brow.

 

Hux convulsed and retched miserably. The sour smell of the acid and alcohol acerbic in the small space. He tried to speak but no words came out.

 

He found a glass of water pressed into his hand and chugged it down unthinkingly. He tried to stand and nearly toppled, saved only by the grip Kylo’s hands.

 

The Knight heaved Hux into his arms and he curled there, threading his fingers into the hair at the base of Kylo’s neck. Kylo shifted an arm free to pull his apprentice up from the floor.

 

“Come,” he said, “Sleep.”

 

They made their way into the tiny berth. Rey’s previous assertion had been correct, there was no way they could share, even had they all been comfortable sleeping together. The bunk was so narrow Kylo alone would have filled it completely, hands and feet left to dangle from its edges.

 

Kylo sat instead, resting his back against the wall of the cabin, keeping his arms firmly around Hux, whose breathing was beginning to settle. Rey followed, cautious. She kept her eyes trained on the Knight’s as she curled herself into the space between Hux’s legs and the wall, crawling in until her shoulder was pressed against his own, and her cheek rested against the ex-General’s knees.

 

Kylo kept his expression carefully neutral. They were familiar to him and yet so strange, these metal people, content to hide their emotions behind panes of untouched glass. Afraid to let themselves feel too much.

 

Tear tracks marred Hux’s face. He wanted to taste them, to dart out with his tongue and feel the bitter salt in his mouth. To watch the man crumble further beneath his touch.

 

Their breathing slowed until it came steady and Kylo allowed his eyes to drop half-closed. Relishing the mingled rise and fall of three chests in unison.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hang with me on [tumblr](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com)


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

 

 

His eyes were heavy as they fluttered open. The ache in his body—throat, side, cock—was pleasurably enhanced by contrast to his throbbing head. His mind felt flayed open, the Miner's Kiss being rather more sedative than a beverage. _What had happened last night?_

 

All at once he became acutely aware of every place their bodies were touching his. Ren, heavy mass curled behind him in the dark. The hot press of his hips against Hux's own. Rey caught in the curve of his arms, dark hair tousled across her face, hidden half in shadow.

 

They kept perfect time with each breath, the rise and fall of two chests pressing in on him in unison. Not for the first time, he was struck by the oddity of the connection.

 

With each beat of their breath against his breast the world closed in, curling into black shadows at the edges of his eyes—as though he lacked for air. He gasped aloud, feeling suddenly trapped. He had to get out of here. This mess—this terrible, stifling mess—it was all his fault. All his fault and he couldn’t even fix it. He was a broken, shattered tool, no longer suitable for its one purpose.

 

He crawled over their bodies and out of the bunk, stumbling and shaking in his hurry to be gone. He glanced back over his shoulder to see that they'd come together, moving to fill the void that he had left.

 

He had his hand on the access pad before he realized he was half-naked and the air in the cockpit was icy. He glanced around for his coat and saw it in a soggy mass with the other discarded clothing. He pulled wet boots onto bare feet, growling at the sensation, and grabbed Ren's cloak to wrap around himself as he stumbled out into the early morning chill.

 

He felt wretched: wrung out and strung out and broken. He lit a cigarette, the harsh drag of it along his throat nearly made him vomit, but he pressed on.  _Failure, idiot, weak_ , berated his inner monologue. _You're going to give up. Just like you did on Starkiller_. He could hear his father's voice, echoing through his mind like nails scraping along his prefrontal cortex.

 

"What will you become Bren? Who will you be?" His father had asked him, that third day of junior academy. The third day he had come home with purple-black bruises and bloody knuckles. The third day of red-rimmed eyes and sullen silence. "You are the son of the Empire." His father had told him then, brushing unfallen tears away from the edges of his eyes. "Born in its dying throes—a Phoenix rising from its ashes."

 

Hux sighed and stubbed out his cigarette on the ship—knowing it would annoy Ren if he could see it—and watched the ashes flit away across the fresh fallen snow.

 

He tried to recall the rest of the memory—the next day he'd returned to school, full of piss and vinegar, proclaiming himself the son of the Empire in response to the first taunt thrown his way. They'd broken his arm. A lesson in humility.

 

He’d managed though, somehow, through wit and will and sheer determination he'd clawed his way through the ranks of the First Order, surrounding himself with those who were loyal, borrowing power when he'd had none. He didn't notice the door of the shuttle slide open behind him.

 

"Hux," Rey's voice was soft but startled him still. "Hux, you should see this." Her hair was mussed and her cheeks red with sleep-- somehow managing to be the very picture of innocence and debauchery at once. He pressed cold fingers against his lips, remembering the sinfully soft touch of her mouth on his the previous night.

 

He crushed the thought beneath his heel along with the butt of his cigarette. He followed her back into the ship, eyes tracking the lean curve of her shoulders as she walked, a thick blanket clutched about her body.

 

"There was an emergency transmission," she explained, "Phasma patched us in--well, you--She addressed the message to you." Her mouth quirked. "It just said 'Bren.'"

 

Kylo was seated in the captain’s chair, dressed only in loose sleeping pants. The muscles of his shoulders stood out, thick and taut with tension. He spared a tight half-smile at seeing Hux wrapped in his cloak before returning to nervous agitation.

 

Rey reached out and clicked the switch, powering up the transmission with a hiss. The picture was grainy, shot through with bursts of static.

 

"From the encryption," said Ren. "I don't know how Phasma tracked us but at least she took precautions."

 

"She has some black market friends," murmured Hux, not taking his eyes off the screen.

 

The image of a stage crackled into view, Lai, in the middle of an address, stood front and center, flanked on one side by Captain Phasma and the on other by a uniformed lieutenant Hux didn't recognize. Presumably someone promoted from his previous command.

 

The speech was difficult to hear in its entirety, through the man had obvious presence. It was a familiar litany of praise for the Order and disgust for their enemies.

 

"This tells us nothing," murmured Ren, disappointed. He turned away from the transmission.

 

"Wait," said Hux. "Phasma knows what she's doing. She wouldn't risk our discovery to send us drivel."

 

Long seconds passed by before they heard it: a change in the sonorous tone of Lai's voice—attempting to portray humility and yet somehow only succeeding in sounding haughtier than ever.

 

“My father’s final words were—trust in our legacy. I never understood what he meant by those words. What legacy could I have, the son of an orphan slave? The son of a man who lived and died in the spice mines of Kessel—enslaved there by our enemies, punished for the crimes of his grandfather—for the crimes of the Empire.”

 

There was a growing silence now, tense, anticipatory as Lai’s words crackled out through the muffled comm speakers.

 

"He always told me, that one day—one day I would follow in the footsteps of my great grandfather, and be as great a man as he. I understand those words now."

 

With a dramatic gesture he flung his arms into the air, gasping at the effort. Those around him stumbled as the stage was lifted mightily in the air.

 

Rey's eyes went wide. "How—but he can't—”

 

"Shh," said Kylo and Hux both, eyes trained on the grainy blue of the holo.

 

Lai dropped his arms and the stage fell again, heavy. "My great grandfather, the Emperor Palpatine _,_ set us on the path we follow today—the path to a new and greater tomorrow. The path to _order_ , to enlightenment.

"He wrested the Empire from the hands of the Galactic Senate, a group of fools too weak to bear the power they were given—but there will always be those who do not understand their gifts, who squander them.

"But today, today I can promise you—here with the legion of the First Order at my fingertips, with the Knights of Ren as my allies, with the Supreme Leader’s guidance— _I will not squander my gifts._ ” His voice rose to a shout and Hux could feel the heartbeat of the crowd rise with him. “I have come to finish what my great grandfather started. And when Kylo Ren returns to rule at my side, then shall the legacy be complete. Palpatine and Vader united again in _triumph_."

 

The transmission ended before Hux could see the reaction of the crowd—positive, he would think. It was the right crowd, to his experienced ear—too young to remember the disaster that was the fall of the Empire, left rudderless in the wake of Palpatine and Vader’s deaths, but old enough to reach for glory, to grasp for power and like the feel of it as it settled over their shoulders.

 

His eyes narrowed as the final words echoed through his brain. He turned to Ren, expression accusatory. "You planned this."

 

"I didn't," replied Kylo, himself livid at Lai’s proclamation of alliance. "You know if I had thrown my lot in with Lai you'd be dead. You said as much yourself."

 

"And is it true—Is he Palpatine’s heir?”

 

“I don’t know. Its possible,” snapped Ren. "You’ve sifted through the ashes of the Empire more often than I, but—but," he paused, considering, "--there were rumors for a long time that Palpatine had sired a legacy, rumors of a three eyed son."

 

"And the Force?"

 

"No," said Rey flatly, looking to Kylo for confirmation. "It must be a trick—I met him and I couldn't feel it."

 

The Knight bit at his bottom lip and nodded, "Likely. Though its possible to hide such things. It certainly aids his image as the prince returned."

 

“A _p_ _rince_. Of course.” Hux choked out a laugh. “That should appeal to you, Ren. And will you go back now? Run into his arms and embrace your legacy as heir to the Empire?" A sneer curled delicately at his lips.

 

He watched as Ren’s lips clenched red and then white as he pulled his mouth closed, harder and harder. Eventually it was too much and the Knight boiled over, words spilling out of his mouth in a hot torrent, heedless of his attempts to trap them.

 

"Damn it Hux, don't you understand? Everything I've done—everything we’re doing, we’ve doing for _you_." His eyes went wide and Rey’s mirrored them, surprise etched across her features.

 

" _What?"_ The word hissed its way between the ex-General's teeth. He stepped forward, placing both hands on Ren's chest and shoved—hard.

 

Ren stumbled backwards, face pale and drawn. "You never wondered why? Why I came to you? Why I chose you—”

 

Hux stepped forward, shoving Ren again, with greater force. "For power. To manipulate me—,”

 

Ren laughed, tossing his head back. "The reasons that brought you to me? No."

 

Hux, panted, full of rage and heat and odd emotion. His throat choked as he swung a fist but Ren dodged, moving towards Rey who sat, watching it all wide eyed from her position in the captain’s chair.

 

"Fight back, damn you." He lunged towards Ren, who ducked behind Rey's chair. Circling to keep her between Hux and himself.

 

"Coward," spat Hux, rage twisting his face.

 

"I'm the coward? Look at yourself _General_ —,” the word was mocking, “Content to run, content to be forgotten, content to _die_ —,"

 

A guttural roar ripped its way out of Hux's mouth and he lunged across the room at the Knight. _Kriff_ how he would like to wrap his hands around Ren's throat and squeeze until each word from his petulant mouth was choked and hindered—

 

“Then _fight back_ , damn you,” echoed Kylo, face red with rage. “Fight against Lai. Fight with us, stand with us.”

 

“And Snoke?” countered Hux, nearly shouting, “Will you face down your Master on my behalf?”

 

“Yes,” said Kylo, with a vehemence that took Hux by surprise.

 

“Ridiculous.”

 

“Snoke wants you dead—” The Knight’s mouth worked open and shut as though forming each word was a struggle, “He’s been lying to me about his plans, isolating me to manipulate me—maybe from the start—and I’ve been too blind to see it. I thought—,” he laughed, a manic bark, more shout than anything else. “Well, I thought I was _special_ somehow, but I’m just a thing to him. A puzzle piece to be placed and forgotten, just like all the others. Our lives mean nothing to him—nothing in the scheme of his work.”

His shoulders heaved with effort, deep panting breaths as he struggled to calm himself. Rey reached up to catch his hand in her own, fingers interlacing softly—the sight of it made Hux strangely nauseated, and he could feel the pulse of his heart in the pit of his stomach.

 

“—we have to fight,” finished Kylo eventually, the feverish intensity of his eyes fading, fading.

 

Hux’s shoulders crumpled. He braced his hands against the arms of the chair, leaning over Rey. He hung his head, voice no more than a whisper. “And get you killed for me? No.”

 

“Bren.” He felt a small hand on his chest--Rey. “ _Bren_. We made this choice for ourselves. We brought you into the bond—,”

 

His eyes went wide at that, frantic and frenzied. “Oh yes, _the bond_ —tell me again how you were doing me a favor by dragging me into your minds, roping me into your mess—,”

 

“ _Then we’ll break it_ ,” roared Kylo, slamming his hands down with a loud clang. “Just _tell me_ , Bren. Tell me that’s what you want and I’ll do it.” His breath came heaving and there was an edge to his voice that spoke of something _other_.

 

 _That_ stopped Hux short, the anger and rage turning cold in his mouth, words crashing in the clutch of his esophagus, choking him. “No.” he said eventually, secret and whispered and shameful. He heard Rey’s voice catch in her throat and he was barely able to bring himself to say it.

 

He raised his head. “No. You’re _mine_. My Knights.”

 

His words sucked the air from the room—a bolt firing from a blaster, the sudden electric shock of plasma building and snapping at once. The hair on the backs of his arms stood up.

 

He looked down at Rey’s hand on his chest, a single shining point of contact, fingers splayed against the bare flesh of his abdomen—and something clicked within him; a small, dark door unlocking in the room of his chest.

 

Rey’s hand fisted in the material of Kylo’s cloak and he was pulled down hard, faces meeting in a bump of noses and a clack of teeth. His skin sang beneath her touch—hot and vibrant and so very _alive._

He looked up to see Ren’s eyes half-lidded, taking in the strange, heady tension that seeped through them—a drop of ink diffusing through water.

 

The Knight’s groan broke the silence, and Hux and Rey broke apart, faces flushed.

 

“ _Mine_ ,” Hux said again, trapping a kiss-swollen lip between his teeth as he heard their breaths hitch simultaneously. He pulled Rey up out of the chair, pinning her against his body, catching her lips again.

The pressure points of tension between them flared bright and burned out—there was a finality about it, his statement, his decision. They would fight for what remained of the shattered riddle of their lives—and if that remainder was short, then at least it would burn bright and fast—the spark-bright pulse of a meteor as it hurled itself into the void.

 

Hux found his thoughts re-centered by the swell of want that emanated from the others—drawing him in like electromagnetism, the electric coil of their energies desperate. Desperate for comfort, desperate for a touch that told them it was going to be alright. The thought brought a flush to his chest, which pooled down to settle in the pit of his stomach, the heady press of _want_ making his pants uncomfortably tight.

 

Rey reached up to unclasp Ren’s cloak from Hux’s shoulders, the midnight fabric seeping down his back to puddle on the floor as her clever fingers found the band of his trousers. The press of his cock was unmistakable, straining against the rough weave of the fabric. She cupped the length of him and he moaned, guttural and wanton, against her mouth.

 

A second set of hands joined Rey’s and Hux opened his eyes to see Ren behind her, broad shoulders allowing him to reach easily around his apprentice’s edges. The rough pads of his fingers skimmed Hux’s sides—careful to avoid the still healing wound—before retreating to explore Rey, one hand cupping the mound between her legs as the other worked its way up under her shirt and across the swell of her breasts.

 

 _Fuck_ , he thought as Rey divested him of his pants, hands working swiftly up and down his length—each touch fluttering and tight at once, silk hiding steel. His hips jerked forward, rutting himself into her touch, desperate for every soft feeling of her.

 

“Rey,” he breathed, eyes fluttering back at the sensation, and she smiled. Ren let out a growl, moving a hand to grip Hux’s jaw. He pressed his thumb against the pout of the ex-general’s lips and Hux ran his tongue over the rough flesh, rewarded by the sound of Ren’s breathing gone ragged.

 

Rey’s knees thudded to the floor and there was a brief moment where the world went achingly bright and then dark again as she took him into her mouth, lips stretched tight around the girth of his cock. Hux’s mouth fell open in a small, quick gasp and Ren shoved his fingers deeper, the rough thrust of them choking—a contrast against the heady pleasure of Rey’s mouth as it slicked up and down.

 

Kylo smirked at Hux—head thrown back, wanton, looking as disheveled and desperate and needy as the Knight had ever seen him—and pulled out his fingers, watching a thin web of saliva drip along their length. He pushed aside his own smooth-fabricked sleep pants to free his erection, the red flush of it curving up along his belly, tight and strained, and smeared Hux’s spit along his length, teasing himself with the gentle touch of his own fingers.

 

Hux’s mouth dropped open further, undone by the obscene sight of Kylo working himself with tight, shuddering strokes. Rey gasped around his cock, the muscles of her throat tightening against the head as he pushed ever deeper, and he knew she could feel it too—Kylo’s pleasure seeping into the backs of their minds like sand filling slowly into the bottom half of an hourglass.

 

Hux groaned and gripped Rey’s hair, pulling his fingers through the tangled strands. He was glad she’d given up that ridiculous hairstyle, even temporarily. The Knight seemed to have a similar appreciation, as one of his hands met Hux’s on Rey’s head, curling his fingers through her hair and pulling sharply.

 

“Ah—mmf,” she moaned around the shove of his cock. His scalp prickled as he felt Kylo pull her hair tighter, kneeling behind her to nudge at the slick entrance of her cunt. Kylo pulled Rey back against him in a sudden thrust and Hux moaned loudly—he could feel it, every shuddering inch of Kylo as he pressed into Rey, he was her and he was Kylo and the feeling of being full, _fuck_ , so _full_ , he didn’t know how Rey could take it.

 

Rey’s mouth went slack around him as Kylo pulled her back, the harsh ringing slap of his thighs against hers echoing loudly in the metal chamber of the shuttle. Hux ringed a tight fist around the base of his cock, staving off an impending wave of pleasure and pulled free of Rey’s mouth with a slick _pop._

 

“Lubricant?” he gasped at Ren. He wasn’t touching or being touched and yet he could still feel the echoes of their movements, each thrust causing him to shudder.

 

“In the ‘fresher,” panted Ren, lowering his mouth to bite at the join of Rey’s shoulder and neck.

 

When he returned they’d moved; Ren on his back with Rey above him. _Perfect_ , thought Hux as he dipped his fingers into the slick, leaving them thick-coated and slippery. He kneeled beside them, still for a moment as he let the flood of sensation wash over him. After several breaths it was too much, and Rey reached out to trace a thumb across his mouth—desperate for his touch.

 

He bent his head to bite at Kylo’s hip-bone, working his way toward the sliding, shuddering thrust where they met, as his hand snaked around to work into the cleft of Ren’s ass, fingers churning to dip into the tight clutch of him. First one, then two.

 

Hux’s mouth worked at the hot join of them, tasting each slick covered thrust as he pressed the flat of his tongue against Rey’s clit. He could sense the pressure building in her with each hot lash of his tongue and pulled back to meet her eyes, relishing in the breathy keen that ripped from her at the sudden absence of his mouth.

 

“Ah, _ah_ , Hux,” gasped Kylo with each stroke, pressing up into Rey and then back down onto the full length of Hux’s fingers. “Hux, please. Please, I need you.”

 

He slipped his fingers softly out of Ren, leaving the Knight half-mad with want—eyes half lidded, the fat pink of his mouth hanging open, slick with spit and swollen from kisses. Hux’s hand on Rey’s hip stilled her and she rose to her knees, out of reach of the Ren’s eager cock.

 

“ _A-ah,_ ” cried Ren, who had been so full, so taken, and was suddenly empty. He could feel Kylo’s ache as though it was his own, his hips jutted forward without meaning to, cock straining and ruby-flushed.

 

“Switch,” he ordered, voice cracking with want, and they followed without question—Rey sprawling on her back, legs spread so that the tight red gape of her cunt was on full display, slick and shining. Kylo followed with a growl, kneeling between her stretched limbs, the swollen head of his cock nudging against her clit.

 

“Wait.” Hux’s grip on the Knight’s hips stilled him. He slopped lubricant into his hand, slicking up and down the length of his cock. Three bodies shuddered at each pull of his hand and he knew they were feeling it too, knew they were him and he was them.

 

Slick-coated palms stretched Kylo’s cheeks apart, till Hux’s cock drew gasps as it worked against Kylo’s opening. “Tell me,” said Hux, waiting, wanting to hear it—needing to hear it.

 

A whine slipped from Rey’s lips and she made to arch her hips, to impale herself once more on the thick heat of Kylo’s cock. “No,” he said, reaching around Kylo to press a palm flat along the plane of her belly—pinning her in place. “I want to hear it.”

 

“Emperor,” gasped Ren, and was rewarded with the head of Hux’s cock.

 

“Yes,” agreed Hux, the sibilant ‘s’ hanging in the air as he pulled Kylo’s hips back, feeding himself in inch by inch until he bottomed out, balls snug against the generous curve of Ren’s ass. He threaded his hands into the tangled mess of Kylo’s curls and pulled back sharply. “Forward,” he whispered against the column of the Knight’s throat, sliding himself backwards as Ren rutted forward to thrust into Rey, and obscene fluctuation of slick gripping heat and burning fullness.

 

Ren was panting, flush spreading from his cheeks down his neck to seep across his shoulders as he was overcome with stimulation. A pleading litany of “ _IcantIcantIcantIcant”_ dripping from his mouth, mingling with Rey’s shattered cries of pleasure, her head thrown back against the floor.

 

Hux reached around to tease his slicked fingers over Rey’s clit, timing them to match each thrust. He could feel the heady crescendo of an orgasm rising—the steady _thudthudthudthud_ of three heartbeats together—everything was hot and flushed and impossible—

 

Rey came first, a high sharp keen as she clenched around Kylo—the feel of her brought the Knight tumbling after, pulling out to paint star-streaks of cum along her belly.

 

“Fuck, ah, _yes_ ,” Hux breathed, taking in the sight of them as he pressed his nose into the sweat-slicked nape of Kylo’s neck. Three more thrusts and he followed, clutching Kylo as his hips stuttered forward.

 

They collapsed forward onto Rey, who laughed, a wheezing laugh with the weight of them upon her chest— the strange, beautiful release of tension leaving them a tangle of limbs and emotions.

 

They rolled aside onto the cold ground, and Kylo hissed where the icy metal kissed his skin. He scrambled up to grab his cloak where it had fallen, laying it out along the ground before sprawling onto his belly with a heavy sigh. Hux and Rey crowded near him, un-gracefully tucking themselves onto the rectangle of fabric and pulling Rey's discarded blanket into the pile.

 

There was a beat. Three shining minutes where the world seemed calm.

 

The air hummed, but it was a sated, contended hum—

 

Hux pressed his forehead against Rey’s shoulder, breathing in and out for the first time in what felt like forever. She rested her hand at the nape of his neck, toying softly with the buzzed-short bristles there, and draped her other hand along Kylo’s back.

  

Kylo sighed, tucking his chin tight to his chest. “And so it begins.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr at [orange-lightsaber](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com)


	14. Chapter 14

They lay there, sprawled out along the durasteel floor, the contented afterglow of sex and of decisions made lulling them into half-slumber.

 

Ren's cloak, the blanket of the bunk, and their still damp clothes from the night before made a haphazard mattress beneath them, strewn out across the floor—but they were poor insulators against the chill of the metal, Rey jolted and rolled over as her skin grazed the floor.  She felt oddly whole, as though her life before now had been a filtered dream from which she had woken into vivid shining clarity.

 

There was some piece of her, some feral scavenger piece, clamoring wildly from the pit of her belly: _run run run run run_ _they’ve taken what they wanted girl now run. Run before they change their minds._ She pushed it down and felt nauseous, checking once and again that the bond was shut—Can’t let them see it, can’t let them feel it.

 

Needing a distraction, she ran her hands along the fabric of Kylo's cloak, spread beneath them, black as space without stars. "It's soft," she said, surprised at the feel of it against her skin. She fingered the tattered hem. "You should get a new one."

 

"Hm," Ren thought for a moment, considering, "No."

 

"Why no—,” she began when Hux burst into choked laughter.

 

" _Kriff_ ," he laughed, staring up at the ceiling, "We've just agreed to behead the First Order and here you are talking about _cloaks_. I mean, I’ve made big plans before, but this…"

 

Rey shrugged, still toying with the edge of the fabric. "You can't live like you're dying, Hux. There are lightyears between then and now."

 

“We’re all dying,” he shot back, “A little every day.”

 

The statement hung in the air, ominous, until a sonorous growl burst through the silence.

 

" _Kriff_ ," said Hux again, this time arching his eyebrows incredulously, "Was that your _stomach_?"

 

She scowled at him, embarrassed, "Humans have to eat, you know. We can't all be mindless droid automata."

 

They bickered back and forth good-naturedly—neither noticing that Ren remained unusually quiet. Eventually he spoke up.

 

"I'm going to shower. Go get food, we're low on rations."

 

Hux nodded, pulling on his clothes, topped off with last night's still damp jacket. He patted the pocket and was satisfied by the click of credit chips.

 

Rey did the same, stopping short when she reached her coat, which was still dripping. "Ugh, it's cold."

 

"Take my cloak," offered Kylo, "It's mostly dry." His voice sounded oddly strained, tight in the clutch of his throat, as he turned away toward the refresher.

 

"Caf, Ren?" asked Hux.

 

"Yeah, sure, whatever you'd like."

 

* * *

 

The steady pulse of the sonic did nothing to dispel the strange feeling of unease that draped over his shoulders, heavy.

 

It wasn't the decision they'd made—no, that had been coming for a long time. If he was honest with himself, it had been coming since he met Hux; some lodestone within the man resonating with the Force in him—an instant, intangible connection, more than mere coincidence.

 

And Rey, well, he couldn't be surprised that she'd felt it as well.

 

No, it wasn't that, he thought as he breathed out steam in the heat of the shower. His cock lay limp against his thigh, beautifully spent, and even the light touch of the sonic was enough to make him shudder deliciously, rolling his shoulders as the sweat evaporated off his body.

 

There was something else. A wariness, closing in on him from all sides. A cloying, ominous feeling.

 

He sighed, pressed his forehead against the wall. A misty cloudiness tangled at the edges of his mind, distracting him. Well, if the Force was trying to warn him of something, some clarity would be nice.

 

He stepped out of the sonic, wrapping a towel around his waist. He wiped a hand across the fogged mirror, enough to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass. Eyes dark, skin flushed from the heat, every inch of him looking _hungry_. Hungry for them, hungry for the familiar press of their flesh, their minds. He pulled back, startled, worried at the _want_ he could see, painted clearly in his own reflection.

 

He shoved his hand against the refresher’s access pad, suddenly eager to leave. The door slid open with a hiss and he stepped into the corridor, turning toward the small locker in the back where he’d stored his clothing.

 

A noise from the direction of the bow caused him to whirl suddenly. That ominous feeling pressed hard against the sides of his head as Lai stepped out of the shadowed cockpit, twirling the hilt of Kylo’s lightsaber in his hands.

 

“Ren,” he began, grinning widely—though whether at the state of Kylo’s undress or his being caught the Knight couldn’t be sure. “I _had_ hoped to find you here.”

 

“In my own ship? On a mission you approved? Yes, excellent detective work.”

 

Lai ignored the jab. “Now, tell me Ren, where is the traitor?”

 

There was a moment of panic where Kylo did everything in his power not to reach for Hux and Rey through the bond. They needed to stay away, stay safe. Hot, pulsing throbs of rage began to bubble slowly in the pit of his stomach. He pushed them down. Keep your wits about you, Kylo.

 

“Oh, so he’s a traitor now?” said the Knight as his eyes darted about, searching for some tool, some avenue of escape. “I thought he was only a coward? Or is this just a new lie to make his fall from power more—palatable, to those who supported him?”

 

“To be a coward is to be a traitor to the Order,” replied Lai, though his brow creased in annoyance.

 

“That may be hard to enforce,” muttered Kylo, more to himself than to Lai. He held his ground as the man and his flanking troopers stepped forward.

 

“Are you prepared to be helpful, or do I need to drug you? Remember, as always, I _would_ prefer that you cooperate.”

 

Kylo clenched his fist, focusing on pulling the hilt of his lightsaber from Lai's grip. As long as the tattooed man was holding it, it seemed to be subject to the same Force-immunity as Lai himself.

 

"Ah-ah-ah." Lai shook his head, wagging the hilt back and forth. His finger found the ignition switch, and the smell of burnt ozone filled the air. He held the saber out away from himself, swinging it gently to evoke the laser-hum. "Beautiful, isn't it?" He mused as the scarlet blade split the air. "For all its flaws."

 

Kylo's other hand tightened, clutching at the towel draped about his waist. He felt exposed, raw, vulnerable, and what was worse—he could feel Hux and Rey leaving the town, laden down with supplies, each crunch of their footsteps in the snow echoed in his ears and he felt as though he walked with them.

 

"--You know, I don't believe you're even listening to me," Lai's voice cut through the fog of his thoughts. "Hm. Your obedience is something that will have to be _adjusted_. The Supreme Leader himself will agree, I'm certain."

 

Kylo merely nodded, unthinking, weighing his options. He took a step back and the stormtroopers behind Lai moved forward with heavy steps.

 

"The ship is surrounded," smirked Lai. "You'll be returning with me whether you like it or not. Allegiances must be kept." He paused before leering forward. "And quite the blushing bride you'll make too."

 

The anger that had been building so tremulously in the pit of his stomach suddenly overflowed, and he lunged forward, reaching out simultaneously with his hand and the Force. He was slammed backward, first mentally, by whatever blocking field managed to keep Lai protected, and then again by the stun-batons of the accompanying stormtroopers. His body flailed and shuddered as he fell backward, clenching his fist in order to crush the troopers instead, to break, to rend, to kill.

 

"Oh no," said Lai, "That won't do."

 

Blood trickled from Kylo’s nose in small rivulets as he threw himself against the mental barrier, again and again, twitching and writhing with the after-effects of the stun.

 

He felt Lai kneel beside him, felt gloved hands at the side of his face. "Shhh sh sh," tutted Lai, "We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." He slapped Kylo hard across the face, smearing blood over his lips.

 

Kylo clenched his fists. Just bear it, Kylo. You're good at that. Let the pain and embarrassment roll off you. You are stone. He smiled with bloody teeth.

 

"Tell me where he is," snarled Lai, suddenly vicious in the face of silent defiance, all good-humor gone. "And the girl. I want her as well." His hand found the Knight's throat, squeezing tight, then tighter when Kylo said nothing—merely choked loudly under the pressure.

 

"So it's to be a fight, is it?" He bent his head closer, so close that his lips nearly touched the bloodied pair before him. "Oh, Ren, I do love a fight."

 

Kylo's vision went black at the edges as he lost air, he could see Lai's mouth moving but the words eluded him, nothing but noises, garbled, unintelligible. He faded in and out of consciousness, each time he thought he might go fully dark Lai would let up, allowing the smallest huff of air to enter his lungs. His body burned, he felt wrung out and heavy, tired and cold.

 

The walls of the ship groaned, shaking under the pressure of Kylo’s mind, metal cracking and screeching. A small burst of pleasure filled the Knight at the sudden look of surprise and fear on Lai’s face, fleeting before he schooled his features back into cold disdain.

 

Lai held out a hand to one of the troopers. "Sedative," he barked sharply, a quick contrast to the soothing lull he continued to chatter at Kylo as he stroked the Knight’s hair back from his face.

 

Kylo groaned as the needle bit into his arm, the flush of medication seeping through his body with each stubborn pump of his heart. There wasn't much time now, he knew as he faded in and out of consciousness, losing himself. He could feel the chill of the air outside, the crunch of snow under his boots, the hot taste of caf in his mouth.

 

_Rey_ , he thought, as his consciousness guttered out like a dying candle,  _Hux_.

 

* * *

 

 

"Ah," cried Rey suddenly, clutching at her head. Her caf spilled as she shuddered violently, a steaming black pool of ink along the crystal white of the snow.

 

_Pain_. Sharp and stabbing in her arm. Her heart thudded dangerously fast as she pitched forward onto her hands and knees onto the ice. Her palms burned with cold and her vision swam, hazy. She could see Hux out of the corner of her eye, equally distressed. Writhing as the strange phantasm of blurred shapes and symbols assaulted their senses. Beneath it she could feel rage, fear, she saw Lai’s face, Kylo’s body, naked and laid out. He was trying to tell them something.

 

"Hux," she started, working her way over to his side.

 

He shook violently, eyes trained on shapes that weren’t there.

 

“ _Hux_ ,” she said again, stroking her hand along his back. It was difficult, she knew, to filter out the thoughts and feelings that weren’t your own, particularly when the sender themselves was compromised, and Hux, well, he’d had the least practice. He retched suddenly, as if to vomit, but nothing came.

 

His eyes were wide as he turned to her, pressed his face into the crook of her neck. They huddled in the snow, trying to decipher the jumble of sights, sounds, and senses that had been Ren’s parting message. Rey lurched wildly, arms around Hux, as a sudden wave of nausea rose within her. She felt sluggish, heavy, drugged.

 

“He’s been sedated,” she realized, as her head swam, “Lai has him.”

 

The roar of the engines answered her, slicing through the air like a hot knife through butter. Large winged things took flight from the forest copse, startled into motion by the noise.

 

Hux merely groaned and clutched more tightly at her shoulders. “I don’t understand,” he gasped, disoriented by the flashing mess of information, “What is he trying to tell us?”

 

“Hux.” She gripped him by the shoulders and he reeled, head lolling, “Hux. I need you to tell me everything you know about the Knights of Ren.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you weren't already imagining Lai as Ramsey Bolton than you might wanna start. I don't think Kylo's going to have a fun time in his custody.
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Orange-lightsaber](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com)


	15. Chapter 15

* * *

 

 

“We are _not_ going to the outer rim,” Hux sighed again. The fourth or fifth time now. “We’re booking transport to the core, disguising ourselves—better than this—,” he ran a hand angrily across his shorn head, “And sneaking aboard the Finalizer.”

 

"Where we will be killed. There are only two of us, we need—" she searched for the word and came up wanting, “—more people.”

 

"Reinforcements,” he corrected. “There are people in the core worlds that will help us."

 

"You have _friends_?" she asked, with such genuine surprise that he felt a pang of hurt.

 

He scowled. "I have—acquaintances, from the Academy."

 

"It won’t be enough, Hux. We need _fighters_."

 

"They know how to fight," he replied, offended. "I know how to fight."

 

She made a face, "You know how to tell other people to fight."

 

"This from the girl who didn't know she was a Jedi until a half a year ago."

 

She whirled on him, snarling. "You think I didn't fight before that, Hux? You think I didn't claw through every day for food and shelter? Not all of us were brought up as the Empire's lapdog."

 

He could feel her breath as she stared up into his face. He knew they were just sniping at each other, emotions dominated by the overwhelming pulse of worry in their bellies, but that didn't stop the flush of frustration rising to his face.

 

He sighed, rubbing his hand across his forehead. He'd been trained in combat, sure, he'd never seen it personally, but—he _had_ been trained.

 

She raised her eyebrows and turned away, apparently satisfied that she had won. Before he even considered what he was doing he was lunging forward, gripping her shoulders as he struggled to wrest her arm behind her in a prisoner's hold. Her muscles went taut, sinewy—she was strong, stronger than she looked as she managed to twist herself half out of his grip. He was lucky, he supposed, that after so many years of fighting hand to hand her instincts with the Force were slower.

 

He pulled her wrist to the small of her back, pinning it there. She whined against the strain on her arm and muttered something out into the icy forest. When he leaned in to hear she slammed her head backwards, catching him in the cheekbone. He managed to keep his grip on her arm despite the pain and could feel a begrudging surge of admiration through the bond.

 

"What was that?" he asked as the stars faded from his eyes, pressing the words into the crook of her neck.

 

"Don’t call me a Jedi," she repeated angrily, struggling against his hold. "I’m not—they—they didn't want me." _Just like everyone else._

 

He heard the words as clearly as though she had spoken them aloud. It startled him into releasing her arm, and he panted slightly as she shook it out. 

 

Part of him wanted to comfort her, to tell her that he, that _they_ wanted her—but he didn’t know how, wasn't sure she would want to hear that from _him_ , anyway, wasn’t ever sure what she wanted. How did one even begin such a conversation?

 

"There," he chided instead, as if it had been his intent all along. "Now we've both learned something about each other."

 

She growled and lunged forward, catching him in a furious kiss—all want and worry and fire—hands fisting in his shirt and pushing him backwards until he met the sturdy trunk of a tree.

 

As soon as it began it was over. She pulled back suddenly and blinked, as though surprised at herself. "We're going to the Outer Rim," she spat, still angry, then scowled and whirled away, continuing her trudge through the shin-deep slush. 

 

He watched her go, an amused expression on his face, and pressed the back of his hand to lips that throbbed as hotly as his cheek.

 

* * *

 

 

The space port was larger than the mining town had been, filled with sleeker snowspeeders, large-treaded tanks, and the kind of people with whom making eye-contact for too long might just be a deadly mistake.

 

There remained a noticeable dearth of women, which meant that Rey quickly began to attract attention. She pulled Kylo's cloak tighter around her shoulders, breathing in the smell of smoke and singed things. Flipping up the hood seemed to do the trick—well, that and the sharp-eyed glares Hux was doling out.

 

They took in the clamor of the spaceport, ships refueling and the day-to-day bustle of purchases, chatter, and eating. Several persons were roasting a large meaty _something_ over an open flame, the wafting smell oddly tempting despite its greyish color and the neon-green fluids it dripped into the fire below. Rey licked her lips hopefully as Hux turned away with a sneer. They weren't so desperate yet as to resort to eating alien vermin.

 

Several ships had designated spokesmen sitting out, ready to negotiate for cargo or passengers. Hux and Rey scanned the crowd, looking for a promising face. They had some money, certainly, but when destinations got risky ships tended to expect a bit more collateral than they could afford at present. Ah, _there_. 

 

The smuggler was youngish, and of a species Hux didn’t recognize—with pale green skin, a myriad of eyes, and a certain irascible air that hadn't yet been beaten out of him by hard living. He looked like a man amenable to a good deal. Rey raised an eyebrow, indicating the man with a jerk of her head and Hux nodded. Seems they agreed.

 

He strode up to the smuggler and laid down a credit chip. The sharp snap of the duraplastic against wood caught the man's attention immediately. He snatched up the chip with an eager hand, holding it up to the light to flash the holospot and make sure it was genuine. Satisfied, he pocketed it and turned to Hux.

 

"I'm listening."

 

"We need passage--"

 

"To the Outer Rim," cut in Rey, glaring at him as if worried he would renege on their unspoken decision. _Kriff_ , as though he didn't want Kylo free of Lai's clutches as much as she did. As if they weren't puzzling through this disaster together.

 

"To the Outer Rim, yes." He agreed, nearly rolling his eyes. "Trakkan system. I can offer two hundred." He glanced back at Rey and weighed his options.

 

"For the both of you?" The alien roared with laughter, "Not even close, boy. Come back with more money."

 

"Each."

 

"For Trakkan? Still not enough." His many-eyed glance traced up and down Rey, catching on her high cheekbones and the fine dusting of freckles that smattered across her nose. "Unless you're willing to throw her in with the bargain. She yours?" He grinned cheekily, revealing several gold teeth.

 

Hux felt Rey stiffen behind him, poised as though to run, to strike, and did his best to send a message of _calm_  through the bond. Couldn't she see by now that he wouldn't give her over at the first sign of trouble?

 

"She’s her own, and I have something else to offer." He leaned forward, meeting the smuggler's central eye directly. "A First Order tracker chip. Highest level clearance. Inactive at the moment, but not damaged. If you could activate it...well." He let the implication hang.

 

"Let's see it then," replied the smuggler, extending a hand and curling his fingers. "You can’t expect me to take an offer like that on faith."

 

He shrugged off his coat and pulled back his sleeve. Pressed down with two fingers into the meat of his upper arm until the bulge of the tracker was visible.

 

"Its _yours_?" the alien roared with laughter. "Kriff, boy, I thought you'd killed someone for it. Highest clearance you said?" His eyes were suddenly shrewd, refocusing on Hux's face, trying to determine where he'd seen him before. Hux held steady under his gaze, knowing that flinching would only draw further suspicion.

 

"Yes. And I assure you, its legitimate. It will get you through any First Order checkpoint, no questions asked. Do we have a deal?"

 

"Can you get it out of there?" asked the smuggler, nodding at Hux's arm.

 

"I’ll need your med-kit, and whatever liquor you have that's strongest, but yes. My...associate should be able to handle the job admirably." Rey made a face but didn't object.

 

The alien extended a pale green palm. "You've got a deal."

 

* * *

 

The ship was smallish but not cramped—packed just about to its limit with a crew of six or seven. They appeared to be the only passengers.

 

"You'll have to share a bunk," growled the Aqualish Captain, whose name was soon revealed to be Torgo. "Ain't much used to taking on passengers. Ain't no luxury liner." He glared at the green-skinned alien with whom they had negotiated earlier. "What possessed you to agree to this, Jex?"

 

Jex's many eyes rolled in a wave of annoyance. "Wait till you hear what he's got, Tor. You'll like it."

 

"Don't like much of anything," grumbled Torgo, but he led them to their bunk without much further complaint. "Stay in your cabin." He ordered, slapping the doorframe. "Breakfast's at bell 8. Don't suppose you brought anything to eat?" They shook their heads. "'Course not," he muttered before plodding away.

 

They entered the small but serviceable berth and closed the door behind them. Rey perched on the edge of the small bed, twisting her fingers together.  Hux rested his forehead against the closed door, feeling the tension that had been pulling him as taut as a bowstring lessen, feeling his shoulders sag. _Even if they managed to find the Knights of Ren there was no guarantee they would help. Kriff, were they just leaving Kylo in the hands of a maniac without recourse?_

 

Attuned to his hesitancy, Rey spoke. "We're going to get him back," she said, voice fierce.

 

He turned to study her. Watched as her eyes lit with determination. She drove him mad, this girl, this enigma. He couldn't understand why she had come to them, how should could be so aloof and yet so connected. He held himself apart, always, and Ren gave too much of himself, always, but Rey—Rey had somehow managed to walk to fragile precipice balance of life. Changed but not consumed, adapting but not disappearing. Surviving. 

 

He envied it.

 

"And if Lai kills him?" he wondered aloud.

 

"He wont," she frowned. "He needs him. He wont," she repeated, warding off the thought.

 

They lapsed into silence, long, still moments where nothing mattered but the fact that they weren’t alone.

 

“We should try to get some sleep,” he said eventually. “We’ll be no help to him if we haven’t rested.”

 

She nodded and slid forward, off the bed and onto the floor.

 

He looked at her through eyes half-slitted, unsure of her intent. It was strange, to be here, with her and without Kylo. Waking up that morning in eachother’s arms seemed like lightyears ago. Did she regret it? Did she feel the same jealous hunger at the thought of he and Kylo together, at the idea of their shared past?

 

“You don’t--,” he began, then stopped. “We can share the bed.”

 

Her brows quirked. “I didn’t think you’d want that. Not without him.”

 

“I—” His mouth was suddenly dry. He had no idea how to navigate a situation such as this one. No idea even how to interpret the feelings pooling in the pit of his stomach. “I don’t know what I want.”

 

She smiled and it was almost a grimace. “I guess that makes two of us then.”

 

He reached down to cup her chin, ran his thumb over the hard edge of her jaw, tugged upward until she stood looking up at him with wide hazel eyes. “It’s not—,” he paused and shook his head. “Kriff, I—I just—”

 

The pressure of her lips on his silenced him.

 

“I know,” she whispered, lips catching his own as she mouthed the words. “I know.”

 

Her hands found the hem of his shirt, hesitant. She looked up at him, needing confirmation, needing _something_ —he nodded.

 

Her fingers skated along his stomach, her mouth soft at the ridge of his collarbone. He sighed softly as she nipped at the bone there, and raised his hands to thread them into the tangle of her hair. He tilted her head back until their mouths met, hot and desperate and sweet all at once. He licked at her lips until she opened her mouth, tugging her tight against his chest until it seemed that there was nothing left in the room but the two of them.

 

She pressed her thumbs into his hipbones and he arched forward, feeling his pants tighten. He slid his hands under her shirt, tick-tick-ticked his fingers up along her ribs until she gasped into his mouth. He grinned against her lips—Kylo had liked that one too.

 

She froze, hazel eyes wide as she looked up at him. “I’m not—I’m not _him,_ ” she said, and waited, fearful he might pull away.

 

“Neither am I.”

 

They crashed together again, cramped in the tiny space of the bunk. His hands rucked her shirt up until they found her breasts, teasing soft circles over her nipples as she arched against the span of his chest. She tugged him back onto the tiny bunk and it groaned under the weight of two people, already half-broken.

 

Impatient as always, Rey’s hands were already tugging and pulling, lifting Hux’s tunic over his head. Gently, she kissed his stomach, her mouth hot against the cold flesh.

 

Hux felt a momentary lucidity at the sensation. The weight of Kylo’s absence gnawed at him, a weight in his bones—he’d never thought, never _worried_ about the Knight before—never known what strange fledgling feelings had been awakened, deep in the caverns of him.

 

He looked down into Rey’s face, soft wisps of hair tickling out over sharp gold cheeks, a plush rose mouth. He wanted to tell her something, anything, that made this all feel alright; anything that eased the pang of loss he felt like a knife blade between his ribs.

 

She smiled softly up at him and his stomach lurched. _Yes. Kriff._ They could do this, the two of them, they could get him back--

 

“ _Ow,_ ” he yelped in surprise as she sunk her teeth into his collarbone. “What—”

 

“ _Shh_ ,” she muttered, laving her tongue against the teethmarks until he shuddered. “I don’t want to think anymore. Please.”

 

He propped up his knees beneath her, tipping her forward until her hands rested on either side of his head. They sat like that for a long moment—chest to chest, breathing each other.

 

Eventually Hux spoke. “We need to get this kriffing tracker out.”

 

* * *

 

Everything hurt. Numb fingers hoisted above his head, feet pinioned, an ache in his chest with every breath that felt like ribs broken, and his head, blurry and fuzzed. A dark shape coalesced before him, and he lunged at it instinctively. Roaring in pain as the restraints bit into flesh rubbed raw.

 

The figure laughed derisively.

 

"Lai?" he snarled, dazed and slipping and vicious, "I'll kill you if you've hurt them."

 

The General examined his gloves. "You know, you've been here twelve standard days now and that's the first thing you say to me every morning?" He tutted. "Not very welcoming."

 

Twelve days? He must be lying. The Knight's head reeled. He focused, tried to call the Force, tried to meditate for a glimpse of yesterday only to find—nothing. Nothing of value, only blurry shapes and the hot tang of blood in his mouth. He shuddered. Twelve days. What could he have told Lai in twelve days?

 

"And have you decided yet?" Asked Lai, seemingly bored with the conversation.

 

"Decided?" rasped Kylo, buying time as he tensed each muscle in turn, taking stock of his injuries and testing the strength of his restraints.

 

Lai's eyes narrowed, evidently annoyed at having to explain himself. Kylo raised is head to laugh and the world lurched sickeningly. _Concussion_ , he thought to himself.

 

"Decided whether you'd prefer to rule by my side or be yanked along at the end of a chain like the dog you are."

 

"And what does this ruling entail, exactly?" His voice sounded wretched to his own ears but maybe—maybe he could tempt Lai into giving something away.

 

"This is the third time we've had this conversation, Ren."

 

"Stop drugging me and maybe I'll remember it."

 

"You'll be my second in command, my enforcer. There'd be a ceremonial binding, of course, to secure the alliance, and then--" he leaned in, close enough that Kylo could feel hot breath on his cheek. "--then we'd destroy anyone who stands in our way."

 

"Binding?" choked Kylo, jerking his head back from the near touch of Lai's lips.

 

"Binding," agreed Lai. "The culmination of two noble houses, Skywalker and Palpatine."

 

"Houses that will soon end—," rasped Kylo. "—unless you're quite a bit more alien than you appear."

 

Lai raised his brows, ignoring the taunt. "Do you think I've forgotten your apprentice? Pretty little thing isn't she? Though a bit rough-spun for my taste—perhaps once we clean her up a bit. Not a lot of Force sensitive women around these days—not after your little murder spree."

 

Kylo growled and lunged forward. His teeth clacked sharply together as the chain about his neck jerked him back.

 

"Oh, _yes_ ," purred Lai.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay--got caught up in the start of school again (last year of grad school, woo!)
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr, I make art too!
> 
> [Orange-lightsaber](http://orange-lightsaber.tumblr.com/tagged/my-art)


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